Weight of the World
by Buffybot
Summary: 7th year fic. Harry,Ron,and Hermione have to deal with the typical situations that come from being 17, as well as preparing for the final battle against Voldermort. HrR, eventual HG.
1. With Heroism Comes Loneliness

**DISCLAIMER:**  I don't own any of these characters.  They all belong to J.K. Rowling.  I'm only borrowing them for my own writing pleasure.

**A/N:**  I hope you all enjoy this story because it's going to be a long one.  The rating may go up for possible situations and language down the road.

CHAPTER ONE:  With Heroism Comes Loneliness

          The sun had all but set over Hersham, casting a semi-dark glow over the land.  Seventeen-year old Harry Potter took it as a sign that he should have headed in for dinner an hour or two ago, but instead had opted to remain outside in the vast backyard of his godfather's house.  He sat alone on top of the picnic table that had come with the house when Sirius had purchased it a month back.

        He was still getting used to the idea of Sirius Black being a free man – and he was sure he was not the only one.  That was why Sirius had chosen this place in the muggle community of Hersham, Surrey.  He wanted to keep away from the prying eyes of the wizarding world.  Very few people outside the ministry knew his current place of residence and Sirius planned to keep it that way.  There were still those who looked at him as if he were a guilty man, even after he had been cleared of the murder of Lily and James Potter.  With the help of Remus Lupin, the two had worked together to track down Peter Pettigrew and brought Lord Voldermort's servant to justice.  Pettigrew was now in Azkaban and Sirius had been given a full pardon by the ministry – as well as a pretty hefty sum of money.  Harry knew it was just because the ministry wanted to avoid a full-out embarrassing trial for the wrongful fifteen-year imprisonment of Sirius Black.  He often wished that his godfather had gone after the ministry.  After all, they had stolen more than a decade of his life.  But Sirius had insisted to him that he wanted to forget everything about Azkaban and to try and live out a normal life, and that would never happen if he engaged the court system in what would undoubtedly be a lengthy, drawn out battle.  And all for a few extra thousand galleons that would never get him back the time that he had lost.  He told Harry over and over that no amount of money was worth having to spend day in and day out in court reliving his experience at Azkaban.  Though Harry didn't agree in his decision not to take on the ministry, he accepted Sirius' choice nonetheless.  If anyone deserved a second chance at a happy life it was Sirius. 

        He figured he wasn't doing much to add to Sirius' happiness at the moment.  Sirius was the only family he had (the Dursley's didn't count in his opinion) and he loved him very much, yet he found it hard to be around him.  He felt like he couldn't express how he was really feeling around him.  Sirius had already dealt with so much that he hated adding on the extra burden of his growing dread about his upcoming and final year at Hogwarts.  

There was only so much faking a cheery mood that Harry could do.  Sirius wasn't stupid though, he could tell there was something wrong, but he restrained himself from commenting on it thus far.

        It wasn't just Sirius he was worried about keeping up appearances for.  Ron and Hermione worried about him enough as it was without him telling them he knew the end was near.  That Lord Voldermort would pick this school year to strike, and there would be one final battle between good and evil fought.  How could he say all this to them with nothing to back it up but his own gut feeling?  Ron would tell him he was reading too much into some of the recent attacks on muggles.  Hermione would probably say he should talk to Sirius, or if it was bothering him that much to find a way to get in touch with Professor Dumbledore.  Though they were both logical suggestions (would there be any others coming from Hermione?) Harry wasn't ready to do either.  He didn't want to get everyone all worked up over some anxious feelings he was having.

        Ron and Hermione seemed to be a packaged deal these days.  He didn't much like the idea of telling them what was wrong and having both of them discussing his state of mind when he wasn't around – which they were probably already doing anyways.  

        Since the end of fifth year, when the two quarreling friends had finally put aside their pride and admitted their true feelings, things had been different.  He couldn't really blame either one of them because they had never done anything to make him feel like a third wheel.  The problem was he _did_ feel like that, not all the time, but it was there – accompanied by something else.  Envy perhaps, topped off with a bit of loneliness.

What he should have felt was happiness for Ron and Hermione.  He should have been relieved that they had finally come to their senses.  But it wasn't always easy watching your two best friends fall in love, armed with the knowledge that you were likely doomed to spend your entire life alone.

        "You must be starving," said a voice from behind Harry.

        "I'm not really hungry.  I had a late lunch," he lied to Sirius.

        "Even if you were," Sirius said, joining him up on the picnic table, "there's not much left,"

        Harry felt a slight twinge of guilt.  "You guys didn't wait for me, did you?"

        To his surprise, Sirius actually laughed.  "I think Ron would have died of starvation if we had,"

        Harry chuckled.  "That sounds like him,"

        "Hermione wanted to, though," Sirius added.  "She thinks there's something going on with you,"

        Harry shrugged in a noncommittal way, but made no reply.  As of yet, his friends had refrained from commenting on his distant behaviour, but sooner or later they were going to demand he tell them what was bothering him.

        "Harry, I've tried not to push or intrude on your privacy," his godfather began, "but it's killing me to see you inflicting some sort of self-imposed exile on yourself.  I can't help you if you don't let me.  Neither can Ron or Hermione,"

        He hated it when people took it upon themselves to assume he needed help.  "I never asked for anyone's help,"

        "Is this about protecting other people?"  Harry's silence was all the answer Sirius needed.  "Damnit Harry," he swore, "we've talked about this.  Making yourself miserable isn't helping anyone, all it's doing is hurting the people you care about,"

        Harry detected the anger in his voice, and considered for a moment that Sirius was right, until he remembered why he was acting like this in the first place. 

        "Voldermort will come for me at Hogwarts," Harry said darkly.  "I don't know when it's going to happen, but it will,"

        Sirius' entire attitude changed.  "Has your scar been hurting?"  He asked concerned.

        Harry shook his head.

        "Then maybe it's not him, Harry.  There's been no activity from him since school ended," he pointed out to his godson.  "You can't spend every day worrying about it, otherwise Voldermort's already won,"

        Harry wanted more than anything to believe him, but something in his voice made him doubt that his godfather was being completely honest with him.

        "You know something," Harry accused.

        "No, I don't," 

        "You're lying, Sirius,"

        The older man sighed.  "I've been in contact with Dumbledore recently," he began.  "I wrote him about how you've been acting and he seemed to think the same as you.  He thinks that because you and Voldermort are connected somehow it explains why you know the final battle is coming.  I didn't say anything," he continued seeing the look Harry was giving him, "because I was hoping you would come to me on your own and tell me what was going on, but I guess I got tired of watching you sulk around this place,"

        Harry was silent for a time, absorbing what Sirius had said.  "Did Dumbledore say what I should do?"

        Sirius' eyes softened.  "He knows telling you not to worry is pointless, so he just wants you to be careful and not take any unnecessary risks,"

        "Is that you talking or Dumbledore?"  Harry asked more sharply then he intended to.

        "_Both_ of us," Sirius replied.  "For once, don't try and be the hero, Harry.  You're not ready to face him – not yet.  And so help me if you try and go after him yourself you're going to wish I was still in Azkaban,"

        He sounded so serious that he actually had Harry frightened for a moment.  Sirius didn't mention the wizard prison often, and Harry didn't need to ask to know that he wasn't joking.  

        "I know it doesn't mean very much with everything going on," said Sirius a moment later, "but this is your last year at Hogwarts, and if you don't take at least a bit of time to enjoy it you'll regret it.  Harry, seventh years rule the school.  You have to take advantage of that, trust me on that one.  Tell me what good is saving the world if you don't get to have a bit of fun out of it?"

        He was right, of course, even if Harry wouldn't admit it out loud.  There was no one better suited to lecture him about the importance of having a proper balance of fun.  Sirius had told him enough stories about the pranks he and the other Marauders had pulled during their school days.  Some were so bad Sirius had told him he'd have to wait until he was older because Lily would have murdered him for telling them.

        "I think I have some news that should cheer you up," Sirius told him.

        Harry regarded him with utmost curiousity.  There wasn't much that could lift his spirits these days.

        "Remus is coming back to teach,"

        Except for maybe that.

        "Really?  Professor Lupin is coming back?" Harry exclaimed, excited.  "But I thought after it got out that he was a werewolf that he would never be allowed to teach again,"

        "Dumbledore's already made up his mind.  He wants a Dark Arts teacher he can trust, and most importantly that the students trust,"

        Harry found only one flaw with the good news.  "What about Lucius Malfoy?  You know he'll find some way to prevent Professor Lupin from coming back,"

        "Don't you worry about the Malfoy's," Sirius said dismissively.  "Old Dumbledore already took care of that.  He told all the concerned parents that he has inside information from a trusted source that Voldermort may be planning an attack on the school and he needs the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher there is.  That was more than enough to convince most of them.  Malfoy's antics won't last if he's got no one to follow him,"

        "I'm Dumbledore's information source, aren't I?" Harry asked.

        Sirius nodded.  "He trusts your feelings even if he can't prove them,"

        If Albus Dumbledore trusted his instincts then he really hoped he wasn't getting everyone worked up for nothing.

        "If you wouldn't mind, Harry, would you be able to keep to yourself what I just told you?  Remus wanted it to be a surprise and he bet me ten galleons I would crack and tell you before the summer was over,"

        "My lips are sealed," Harry promised.

        "That's good to hear," said Sirius, jumping down off the picnic table.  "Now do you want to come in and see if Ron left you any scraps?"

        Harry doubted there would be anything worth eating left, but he followed Sirius inside regardless.  He had done enough brooding for one night. 

As always, I appreciate any constructive criticism or comments.

I'm busy with exams right now but I wanted to get the first chapter posted.  I'll try to have chapter two up within the next couple of weeks – maybe even sooner.


	2. Muggle Shopping

A/N:  School is finally over (YAY!) – though now I have to start working again – but I hope that I'll be able to update this story more regularly now.  Hope you enjoy this chapter and keep letting me know what you think.

CHAPTER TWO:  Muggle Shopping

        There was absolute silence when Harry awoke the following morning, making him momentarily forget that he was at The Burrow.  At the very least there should have been the sounds of conversation coming from downstairs, or small explosions erupting from the twins' room in the basement where they continued to make joke stuff for their shop in Diagon Alley.  Harry also should have heard Ron snoring, but when he sat up he saw Ron's bed was empty.  That was strange.  Ron almost never got up before him.  

        Still wondering where Ron was, Harry gathered his clothes and went to use the bathroom to take a quick morning shower.  There was still an unusual silence surrounding the house when he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later.  It wasn't until he entered the kitchen to make himself breakfast that he found he was not the only one home.

        Ginny Weasley was sitting at the kitchen table, pushing a spoon around a bowl of porridge, intensely absorbed in the piece of parchment in front of her.  She didn't look up when Harry walked in.  Two years ago he wouldn't have been able to get away with that, but Ginny's crush on him had dissolved enough that they had managed to forge together some sort of a friendship.  He hated to admit it, even to himself, but part of the reason he had started talking to her so soon after Ron and Hermione had gotten together was because he had been feeling left out.  He figured she would understand, with she herself being the youngest of six siblings.  When Ginny's hero worship of him had finally disappeared, they were able to sit down together and have a conversation without either one of them feeling awkward.

        This was the first summer he had spent entirely at the Weasley's and he had thought it would eventually get uncomfortable being around her all the time, but thankfully it hadn't.  The primary reason he enjoyed her company was she could tell when he wasn't in the mood to talk, and would just sit with him, never demanding he tell her anything unlike so many other people in his life.

        Harry joined her at the table, pouring himself a glace of orange juice.  "What are you reading?"

        She looked up slightly startled, having not heard him sit down, but recovered quickly enough.  "Mum's shopping list," she replied.  "She won't have time to do it today because she has to pick up the material for Dad's new dress robes for that ministry dinner he has tonight,"

        Harry leaned over so he could get a look at what was written there.  "It doesn't look that bad," he commented, recognizing just about everything on the piece of parchment.  "I didn't know your mum did her shopping at muggle grocery stores,"

        "She never used to.  But dad got her hooked on it, and she expects me to do her shopping there when I've never even been to one,"

        "I could help," Harry offered.  "Grocery shopping is probably more exciting then anything else I had planned,"

        "Thanks, Harry," she said, breathing a visible sigh of relief.  "I would have asked Hermione but she left early this morning,"

        "Where'd she go?"

        Ginny rolled her eyes.  "This new book that she's been waiting for came out at Flourish and Blotts today.  She dragged my reading-challenged brother with her to get it,"

        Harry grinned.  He could picture Ron's face as Hermione hauled him out of bed probably around seven o'clock so they could be at the bookshop for when it opened.  "Maybe we should go now," he said to her.  "If Ron's had to hang around books all morning he won't be in a very good mood when they get back,"

        Since neither one of them enjoyed being around Ron when he was grumpy, they finished their breakfast and twenty minutes later were out the door heading for town.

        Harry was by no means an expert when it came to shopping for food.  The only times Aunt Petunia had dragged him along on one of her daily runs for Dudley was when she hadn't been able to find a babysitter.  Even then he had been forced to stand with the cart at all times and Aunt Petunia had sternly lectured him in the car ride over not to touch anything.  

        It was a fifteen-minute walk to the nearest shopping center, not that it bothered him, and Ginny hadn't seemed to mind either.  Harry figured he could use every bit of physical exercise he could get.  He had allowed himself to slack off during the summer months and wanted to be back in top form for the upcoming Quidditch season.  It wouldn't look very good if the captain couldn't keep up with the drills he was putting the rest of his team through. 

        Harry grabbed them a cart when they arrived inside the store, silently thinking that maybe they should have waited for Hermione.  She was bound to be more knowledgeable then him when it came to muggle grocery stores.  He couldn't even remember the last time he had been in one of these places.  But as long as they stuck to Mrs. Weasley's list they would probably be all right.

        "So what's first on the list?"  He asked.

        "Baking powder," Ginny read off.

        That didn't sound too difficult.  They found the baking aisle quickly enough, and after a bit of searching came across the baking powder.

        They continued on with the shopping finding everything with a minimum of effort.  Mrs. Weasley had been specific enough in her descriptions that they had no trouble selecting the right item among all the different choices that were offered.  

        On their way to the check-out (Mr. Weasley had handed Ginny a handful of muggle bills that morning hoping that it would be enough to cover everything) they passed through what every muggle child came to know as the 'junk food' aisle.  Harry had grown so accustomed to living like a wizard that it had been years since he'd eaten any muggle candy.  The Dursley's had never bought him any, of course.  He had always been forced to eat the sweets that his cousin Dudley didn't like.  

        He nearly passed through it without stopping, but something about what Sirius had said the other night about having fun forced him to act.

        "Ginny, have you ever had muggle sweets?"  Harry asked stopping the cart in front of a large display of chocolate bars.

        "Once," she answered.  "Dad brought a bunch home, thinking it was fascinating how children would eat candy that did nothing.  We didn't like it so he never did it again,"

        "Maybe your dad didn't get the right kind,"

        There was enough space in the cart that Harry started filling it up with sweets that sounded good, even picking up a bag of M&M's because he remembered Hermione mentioning once that she liked them.  He avoided anything he had ever actually tried because he had never liked anything Dudley had rejected and then given him.  

        Ginny regarded him strangely.  "Harry, what are you doing?"

        "Shopping," he replied happily.

        He felt a bit stupid that picking out candy had put him in a good mood, but with a week left of summer he figured he should enjoy what free time he had left.  Seventh year was grueling, according to each of the Weasley boys that had already graduated.  Even Fred and George had had to serious up a bit to pass all their classes.  

        They paid for their shopping and began the trek back to The Burrow.  The long walk was not nearly as pleasant as it had been in going to town.  Harry and Ginny each had their hands full of bags, and Ginny felt sure if they didn't arrive home soon her arms would fall off.

        Ron and Hermione were sitting out on the porch when they started walking up the driveway.  They dropped whatever conversation they had been having to come down and give them a hand.

        "Bloody hell, Ginny," Ron grumbled taking several full bags off her hands.  "What did you do, buy the whole store?"

        "I only got what was on mum's list," she said, as they walked into the house.  "Harry was the one who cleaned out the sweet department,"

        "Muggle candy, Harry?" Ron said in disbelief.  "Why would you buy that?"

        Before he could reply Hermione put the bags she had been carrying on the table and said, "sweets are sweets, Ron,"

        "Yeah, right," he said, not believing her for a second.  "What does it do anyways?"

        "You eat it," Hermione said, smartly.

        "Ha, ha, ha, very funny," said Ron, shooting her a look.  "What I meant was does it doing anything special? You know, does steam come out your ears or make your hair change colour?"

        Harry suppressed the urge to laugh.  "No, Ron, it doesn't do anything,"

        Ron snorted.  "Sounds pretty boring to me then.  I don't know why anyone would want to eat it,"

        "M&M's?" Hermione cried, taking out a small brown package.  She grinned at Harry and then turned to Ron.  "You can't say you don't like something if you've never tried it,"

        "I have tried it – once, and that was enough.  Dad had some crazy idea in his head years ago that it would be fun to try it.  While you three enjoy your 'normal' sweets I'll bring the rest of the shopping in,"

        "It's actually not bad," Ginny commented after Ron had left.

        "I told you," Harry said, grinning.

        As they started unpacking the shopping a thought occurred to him.  "We're going back to Sirius' tomorrow to help him finish unpacking the last of his stuff," he said to Ginny.  "So if you're not busy or anything you could come give us a hand,"

        She smiled.  "Sure," she said, and opened the cupboard to put away the baking powder they had bought.

        When her back was to him, he turned to see Hermione staring at him, fighting to keep a look of amusement off her face.  Harry turned away first, thinking he would have to ask her about that later, when it was just the two of them.  Harry himself didn't think it was such a big deal.  Sure, he had waited until Ron had left before asking, but Hermione should know better then to think there was something going on between him and Ginny.  

        Ron came back with the rest of the shopping a moment later, and the three of them became too preoccupied with trying to get him to try a chocolate bar, that he completely forgot about the look Hermione had given him minutes earlier.

The morning was nearly over and Harry and Hermione were still surrounded by piles of boxes in Sirius' den waiting to be unpacked.  

        "Where did Sirius keep all this stuff over the years?"  Hermione said, unpacking yet another box.  Surprisingly, this one was filled with books.  Looking at some of the complicated titles she said,  "I didn't know he owned all these,"

        "I don't think he's ever read them," Harry told her.  "He told me awhile back he used to use them to impress women when they came over,"

        She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, "men, _honestly_," before placing them on an empty shelf.

        Harry tugged on an old sofa, bringing it to rest against a nearby wall.  

        "You and Ginny seem to have gotten closer this summer," Hermione observed.

        One of the few things Hermione wasn't good at was subtly.  Her statement was what made Harry lookup from the Chair he had started dragging to a corner of the room.  "What's your point?"  

        "I don't have one.  I was just making an observation," she said, hauling another set of books onto a shelf.

        "Did Ron put you up to this?"

        This time she stopped what she was doing to glare at him.  "If Ron has something he wants to ask you he can do it himself.  You should know that,"

        He did know that, but it hadn't stopped him from asking.  "We keep each other company – that's all.  She doesn't force me to talk about things I don't want to talk about,"

        He knew as soon as the last words were out of his mouth that he should not have said them.  Now there was no way they would get out of this conversation without it turning into an argument.

        "When have we ever forced you to talk to us?"  She demanded to know.

        He didn't miss how she referred to herself and Ron as 'we', as if they were one person.  "All the time I feel pressured to have to tell you two what's going on.  I have one bad day and you both think something awful must have happened.  I can't tell you and Ron every little thing that happens to me, okay?"

        She looked hurt.  "Why not?  Harry, we're your friends.  The only reason we want you to open up to us is because you shouldn't have to deal with it all on your own.  You shouldn't feel like you have to keep everything all bottled up inside,"

        Some things were better left unsaid, but he didn't say that to her.  He was sure she could figure that out on her own, but that didn't stop her from continuing to press the point.

        "What's going on with you, Harry?  Something's been eating away at you for months now, and it has nothing to do with Voldermort,"

        It was times like these he hated her for being able to read him better then most people.  "Can we finish up here, please?  Sirius is going to wonder what's taking so long,"

        But Hermione was not one to let things drop.  "You've done everything you can this summer to avoid spending time with Ron and I.  The only person you seem to be okay being around is Ginny.  I'd like to know what we did to make you so mad at us,"

        "The only reason I spent all that time with Ginny was because I needed a break from seeing you and Ron together.  It makes me miserable to see the two of you so happy.  I know I'm being unfair but that's how I feel,"

        Hermione looked like she didn't know how to respond to this revelation.  He couldn't tell if she was angry or upset, because she just continued to stand there in silence.  

Harry was saved from having to say something to break the silence when a sound out in the hallway caught their attention.  A second later, Remus Lupin walked in.  

        He took in the tense atmosphere and said, "did I interrupt something?"

        "No, we're finished," said Hermione, without looking at Harry.  "I'm going to see what Sirius wants with the rest of this stuff because it won't fit in here."  She crossed the room and left.

        Maybe he had read her wrong.  He could see the hurt on her face as she passed him.  Why had he been such a prat?  He felt like taking his Firebolt and smacking himself in the forehead with the handle.  He shouldn't have said those things to her, at least not without offering any explanation.

        Lupin was watching him closely.  Probably trying to decide if he should ask about what he had walked in on.  Harry was spared from having to explain when his former professor opted instead to ask if he wanted any lunch.

        He didn't have much of an appetite after that, but his mindset was no longer on unpacking more boxes, so he followed Lupin out of the den and into the kitchen.

        The afternoon did not go much better.  Several times Harry had thought about approaching Hermione, but never actually went through with it because he had no idea what to say to her, and really didn't want the rest of the house listening in.

        Ron didn't miss that there was something off with them.  But after Hermione told him flatly there was nothing wrong, he didn't bring it up again.  He just gave Harry a funny look before returning to what he was doing.  Ginny didn't comment on their behaviour, but he expected that from her.  She knew that when he was ready he would talk to her – that was how their relationship worked.  

        He had a feeling Lupin had caught the end of their argument, but didn't want them to think he had been eavesdropping so had neglected to speak to either one of them on the matter.  That lasted until everyone had gone back to the Burrow except for Harry.  He had decided to stay behind to spend some time with Sirius, which got him out of the awkwardness that would have followed if he had gone back to the Weasley's.  But Sirius had been called away on urgent business at the ministry shortly after, leaving Harry to sit in the den listening to a Quidditch match on the wireless.

        He was alone for maybe twenty minutes when Lupin joined him.

        "If I were you I would have jumped at the chance to go back to the Burrow.  Sirius doesn't have much in the way of food around here," he said to Harry.

        "I'm sure the Weasley's could use a break from me.  I've been there nearly two month straight,"

        "Are you sure it's not the other way around?"  Lupin asked with a raised eyebrow, taking a seat on an old cushioned chair across from him.

        "Ron's family is great.  I love them like they were my own family.  But that's the problem, they're not,"

        Lupin gave a small smile.  "I think they would disagree with you on that,"

        Harry made no reply.  He went back to listening to the game until Remus said, "she heard you today,"

        Harry turned the volume down slightly.  "Who?"

        "Ginny,"

        He turned the game off completely this time.  "Hermione and I were having an argument.  I didn't mean for what I said to come out like that,"

        "Even if it's the truth?"

        "But it's not!"  Harry insisted.  "Maybe in the beginning it was, but not now."  He sighed.  "What am I going to say to her?"

        "Why don't you tell her what you just told me?" Lupin suggested.

        Harry wanted to tell him it wasn't that simple.  He wasn't sure why, but he knew he wasn't going to get off with a simple apology to Ginny.

        Thankful when Lupin did not prod him further, Harry decided to take his chances and head back to The Burrow.  He couldn't avoid it forever; all his stuff was there.  But he would have gladly given it all up if he didn't have to face either Hermione or Ginny when he got back.

        After playing an endless game of one on one Quidditch with Ron in the huge field behind the Weasley house – where they had both stayed out well past the point where they could no longer see properly – Harry had decided to call it a night.  He let Ron use the shower first; it was his house after all.  

He was in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water  when he could see outside the window that the porch light was on and Hermione sitting out there alone reading a book.  

        Gulping down the rest of his water, he made the decision to go out there.  It was childish to avoid her after everything they had been through together.

        She looked up when she heard the door open.  "How was Quidditch?"  

        "It was all right.  You could have come watched,"

        She rolled her eyes.  "No thanks, I'm going to be surrounded by Quidditch soon enough when we get back to school,"

        He read off the title of the book in her lap.  "_Hogwarts, A Hisotry: Completely Revised and Expended 200th Anniversary Edition_.  Ron must have loved coming with you at the crack of dawn to get it,"

        "He wasn't too pleased, but I told him I'd make it up to him,"

        Harry didn't know what to say next.  He was avoiding bringing up that morning, and she knew it.  "I'm sorry about earlier," he apologized.  "I was being unfair,"

        "Is that how you really feel?"  She searched his eyes for answers when he did not respond.  "I know a lot has changed between the three of us over the last couple of years, but I thought we were okay,"

        "We are okay," he said.

        Hermione disagreed.  "Obviously we aren't if you're feeling like this.  You should have said something sooner,"

        "Did you say anything to Ron?"

        "Did you want me to?"  She asked him back.

        "No," he answered after having thought it over.  He already felt stupid for having slipped up and telling her.

        "That's why I didn't tell him.  But maybe I should have.  We should sit down and talk, the three of us,"

        "Hermione I didn't say what I said because I'm angry at you or Ron.  I'm really happy for the both of you, honestly.  It's just…."

        "You're lonely," she finished after he trailed off.

        He barely nodded his head, dropping his gaze to the ground so he wouldn't have to look at her.

        "I'm sorry," she said softly.  "I should have realized.  I should have –"

         "Don't apologize," he said, lifting his head back up.  "It's my life and I made it that way.  I shouldn't be taking out my choices on either one of you,"

        A silence fell over them and Harry decided it was time to head back inside.

        "Harry," Hermione's voice stopped him in the doorway.  "You might be lonely but you're not alone.  We'll always be here when you need us,"

        He acknowledged her words with a nod before letting the screen door shut behind him.


	3. Break From The Burrow

CHAPTER THREE:  Break From The Burrow

Walking up the wooden stairs of the Weasley home, Harry felt a bit better after his conversation with Hermione.  She was right, he _should_ have talked to her or Ron about it sooner, but he had gotten so good over the years at keeping whatever was bothering him locked up inside, that it was a hard habit to break.  More than anything he was glad she didn't resent him for what he was feeling.

        When he reached the second floor the sound of water running told him Ron was still in the shower – but that was fine.  He wasn't in as much of a rush to turn in as ten minutes ago.  

The door to Ginny's room was shut, but he could see light coming through the bottom crack of her door.  Feeling somewhat confident after his talk with Hermione he made up his mind to pay her a visit. 

        Hoping she wasn't in bed yet, he knocked gently on her door.

        After a moment, a voice said, "come in,"

        At her invitation, he opened the door and walked in.  She was seated at her desk wearing a nightgown, writing in some book that looked like a journal.

        He had come to her room to talk to her about what she had overheard, so he really shouldn't have been thinking about how much she had changed from the skinny, redhead girl he had first met at the train station seven years ago.  He had never been interested in anything more than friendship from her, but that didn't make him blind the fact that she had done a lot of growing up over the years – made all the more apparent by the slim, blue nightgown she was wearing.  

        "Oh, it's you," she said, closing the maroon book and placing it in a desk drawer.

        She didn't sound angry to see him.  "I wanted to say goodnight," he lied.

        "Goodnight," she said to him.

        Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose.  A nervous habit he had developed over the years.  "Lupin said you heard the argument Hermione and I had today at Sirius'," he began.

        "Some of it," she said, retrieving the dressing gown from the back of the chair and putting it over top of her nightgown.

        "I didn't mean for what I said to come out like that," he said, deciding to take Lupin's advice.

        "You don't have to coddle me," she said, showing the first sign of anger since inviting him into her room.  "You're two best friends fell in love and you felt left out.  And you thought who better to understand you then me, the girl who's been left out of everything her entire life,"

        She was so dead on with her words that Harry was left stunned.  She didn't sound bitter but that wasn't going to help him out of the mess he had created.

        "You don't have to apologize for something I knew all along," she said, not meeting his gaze.

        He didn't know what to say to that.  He had been expecting to face the infamous Weasley temper upon entering her room, and all she had done was in a calm and rational voice say she knew they had never really been friends to begin with.

        "Harry, it's late," she said, when he continued to stand there without saying a word.

        He searched her face for some sort of emotion but there was nothing.  It was like what she had overheard him saying in the heat of an argument truly had had no affect on her.

After a quick goodnight, he left her room and trudged up a second set of stairs to Ron's room, trying to figure out why it bothered him so much that she didn't seem to care.

When Ron and Hermione came down for breakfast the next morning, Harry was already sitting there, waiting for them.  He had come to a decision last night, and before either one of them were seated, he told them he planned on spending the last few days of holidays at Sirius'.

        "Why?"  Ron asked.  "I know he's your godfather and all, but we only have four days left of goofing around and doing nothing before we go back to the grueling halls of Hogwarts.  _Not_ all of us live for school," he said, shooting a meaningful look in Hermione's direction.

        She pretended to ignore it.  She was more concerned about figuring out if Harry's decision had anything to do with what had happened the other day then to get caught up in another row with Ron about school.

        "I just want to spend some time with Sirius," he told the both of them.  "This is his first summer free and all the time I've spent with him has been helping him set up his new house,"

        He interpreted Hermione's expression and tried to tell her without words that his staying with Sirius had nothing to do what they had talked about last night.  She seemed to understand because she finally looked away with a brief nod.

        "Morning," said Ginny, appearing at the kitchen doorway.  "What's going on?"  She asked, taking in the three of the sitting at the table but no one eating.

        "Harry's going to stay with Sirius for the rest of the week," Ron announced.

        Harry's gaze caught Ginny's briefly before both turned away at the same instant.  She appeared surprised, but that was all he could get just by looking at her.

        She was part of the reason he was leaving and he had a feeling she knew that.  Even though she didn't appear to have been hurt by his words, he still had trouble looking her in the eye.  He had tossed and turned for a good hour last night trying to figure out when he had stopped seeing her as Ron's sister and accepting her as a friend.  For a friend, he certainly hadn't treated her very well.  But then again, last night she had made it clear that she had never thought they were anything more than acquaintances, pushed together because of the budding romance between Ron and Hermione.

It confused him to no end why he cared about what she thought.  That was the other reason he needed to get away from the Burrow.  He needed a chance to clear his head, and with only Sirius around it would be a lot easier to accomplish then in a house full of seven people.

        With the news of his departure out of the way, they proceeded to eat breakfast in relative silence until Mrs. Weasley came in from the garden.  When she found out Harry was leaving, she made a huge fuss about finishing his laundry before he left.  Harry tried to tell her not to worry about it, but like all the other Weasley's once she set her mind on something there was no changing it.

        Excusing himself from the breakfast table, Harry went up to pack, all to aware that Ginny's eyes were on him as he left.

        It was the dead of night when Harry was awakened from his peaceful slumber.  He was lying on his back on Sirius' couch, with a copy of _Quidditch Monthly_ open on his lap, and his glasses hanging half way off his face.  When he fixed them he saw the reason for his waking up standing directly in front of him.

        He nearly jumped off the couch, seeing Ginny stepping out of the fireplace.

        "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be asleep," she said, brushing soot off herself.

        Harry looked at his watch.  It was nearly eleven thirty.  "What are you doing here?"  He hoped he didn't sound too rude.

        "We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow," she said.

        "Ok," said Harry, sitting up and straightening his clothes.  That still didn't explain why she had come.  Ron or Hermione could have told him.

        "I just thought you'd like to come with us," she told him.  "We'll be at Flourish and Blotts for eight o'clock, if you decide to come,"

        She left after that, using the fireplace to get back to The Burrow.

        He was wide-awake now, and though he had been confused by her arrival initially, he now knew why she had come.  For the past four days he had spent the majority of his time keeping away from The Burrow.  He had met with Ron and Hermione several times, but most of their meetings had occurred outside of the Weasley home.  He wasn't avoiding The Burrow, he just felt more comfortable if he didn't have to be there any longer then necessary.

        It was _him_ who had needed the break from the Weasley's – actually, it was more like from just one Weasley in particular.  

        The last week of his holidays had been surprisingly good.  With most of Sirius' work at the ministry done, he had been able to spend more time with Harry now then he had the previous weeks of the summer.  Harry thought he had done a pretty good job of hiding from his godfather his reasons for leaving The Burrow, whether Sirius actually believed it was because he wanted to spend more time with him remained to be seen.  But after their talk the previous week, Sirius had not once asked him about his premonition about Voldermort.  It was still there, of course, but Harry had made a point of burying it deep inside him and not letting it rule him anymore.  For now, he had the attitude that what would come, would come.  He just needed to make sure he was prepared when it happened.  He had faith that Dumbledore would make sure that he was.

        He figured it wouldn't be a big deal if he met up with everyone at Diagon Alley tomorrow.  He was going to have to have to get his school supplies anyways.  And if Ginny had come all the way to Sirius' just to invite him, then he shouldn't be worried about being around her.  

        Even with that thought in mind, he slept a lot less soundly when he fell back asleep the second time, knowing tomorrow would be his first day back at Hogwarts.


	4. Incident At The Bookstore

CHAPTER FOUR:  Incident At The Bookstore 

        Ginny Weasley blew out an impatient sigh as she searched the shelves of the Flourish and Blotts shop for a copy of _Fantastic Creatures that Make Not so Fantastic Pets_.  She should have taken Hermione up on her offer to help her find her textbooks. She probably knew the whole store as well as the shopkeeper – maybe even better.  How was anyone supposed to find anything anyway with the disordered mess these books were in? 

        She cast a quick look around for Hermione, but there were so many other people crowded into the store she couldn't see the other girl through the crowds.  An old, graying witch, the shopkeeper, was too busy helping everyone in the immediate vicinity around her, leaving Ginny to find what she was looking for on her own.

        She had finally convinced her mother that she was old enough to buy her school supplies on her own and what a great job of it she was doing.  

        Even after five years of buying most of her things second hand, it did not make her feel any less embarrassed to be searching for her school books in the section of the store where all the used ones were kept.  But it was made a little easier when she discovered she was not the only one browsing around the area.  

        "I think you'll need this one," a male voice said from behind her.

        She whirled around to face Harry, who was holding a used copy of _Standard Book of Spells – Grade Six_ in his hands.

        She took it from him and placed it in her basket with the other three books already in there.  "Thanks," 

        She went back to searching the shelves, more to keep him from seeing her reddening cheeks then anything.  There weren't many people who could hand her a used book without offending her, and Harry was one of them.  He hadn't given her one to insult her, she was sure of that.  She knew even without asking he would have bought all her books for her – brand new, but she would never let him do that, and that's why the offer had never been made.  She didn't need any more reminders of her family's money problems.

        "What are you looking for now?"  He asked, coming to stand beside her.

        She told him the title of the book she had spent the past ten minutes searching for.

        "I almost thought you weren't coming," she said, as they continued to search the titles on the bindings of books.

        "You know I don't travel by floo too well," said Harry, thoroughly searching the shelves.  "Found it," he announced a minute later.  Even with his height, Harry had to stand on his tiptoes to grab a copy of _Fantastic Creates that Make Not so Fantastic Pets_.  

        "These last two I have to get new," she told him.  Since third year the Defense Against the Dark Arts books had been updated and expanded upon every year, making an old copy utterly useless.  She had almost cringed when she had first gotten her book list and two had happened to be Dark Arts ones.

        The section filled with brand new texts was a lot busier than the part of the store she had just been in.  She practically had to push people out of the way to reach the area where all the Defense Against the Dark Arts texts were kept.

        "Did you already get your books?" She asked as Harry turned the corner.

        "Yeah, they're up at the front," he said, turning to face her as he spoke.  As a result, he ended up bumping into the back of the person in front of him.  "Sorry," he apologized quickly.  "I didn't – " 

When he recognized who it was, he wished he hadn't been so quick to apologize.

        Draco Malfoy fixed him with an icy glare.  "I'd be a bit more than sorry if I was you, Potter," 

        He noticed Ginny standing there, and said loudly, "This is the area for people that actually _have_ money.  I think you belong back over there, Weasley."

        Ginny watched Harry's jaw clench, but he kept his mouth shut.  He grabbed her arm to steer her away from Malfoy before he could make any more comments.

        "I get it," Malfoy said to their retreating backs.  "Potter's buying your books this year.  How charitable."

        Before Harry could turn around, there was a loud thud from the stacks behind them and there came the sound of books crashing to the floor.

        Ron had Malfoy shoved up against the bookcase.  The Slytherin's eyes were wide with fear for a second, but he quickly regained control of himself.

        "Get your hands off me!"  He shouted at Ron.

        Ron made no move to release him.  "I don't think so," he said, in a dangerously calm voice, giving Malfoy another shove back.  "You've insulted my family for the last time, Malfoy."

        Harry knew from experience that Ron's temper was at its most dangerous when he attempted to speak in a controlled voice. Knowing his best friend was about to get himself in a whole load of trouble, he went to step in, but Hermione reached him first.

        "Ron, let him go," she said, sternly, holding a wrapped package of books under one arm.

        Even appearing to be at the mercy of Ron, Malfoy managed a chuckle.  "I was starting to wonder when your mudblood girlfriend would rear her ugly face."

        Ron's face became a mask of pure fury.  He went to hit Malfoy, but Hermione, showing a surprising amount of strength managed to hold him back.  Ron turned his fury on her.  "What the hell are you doing?"  He roared at her.

        "Keeping you from doing something you're going to regret," she snapped.  After all these years, he still managed to let Malfoy goad him into a fight.

        Ron actually laughed, though there was no hint of humour in it.  "Regret? I've been waiting seven years to smack the smirk off that bastard's face."

        "I don't want to interrupt your little lover's quarrel," said Malfoy, when Ron's grip had relaxed enough that he could break free.  "I'll see you all on the train," he said, straightening his robes and then leaving.

        Ron's glare followed Malfoy until he disappeared down another aisle.  "There, are you happy now?"  Ron snapped at her.  "He makes our lives miserable and you just let him walk away."

        "Ron are you that thick?  Malfoy _wanted_ you to hit him.  Then he could go running to his father."

        "Let him run to daddy.  I don't care.  I'm so sick of his shit.  I'm not going to take it this year."

        "And beating Malfoy to a bloody pulp is really going to make things better?"  She was so angry, she didn't tell him off for cursing.

        Ginny had seen them row in public before, but never in such a heated manner.  She thought about trying to break it up, when Harry placed a restraining hand on her arm.

        "Let them have it out.  It's better this way," he told her.

        She wasn't sure she believed him.  Both their faces were bright red from shouting, and people were starting to stare.

        "Are you sure?"  She asked, before she let him lead her away.

        "Trust me," 

        He had known them both long enough to know that when they had an all out yelling match like the one they were having now, the best thing anyone could do was leave them alone to argue it out.  He had learned that lesson the hard way, after finding himself in the middle of many of their rows over the years.

        By the time Ginny had finished getting her books and they left the shop, Ron and Hermione had calmed down enough that Harry and Ginny walked back with them to the Leaky Cauldron.  They didn't speak to each other the entire way to the Cauldron or during the short walk to the train station.  If Harry hadn't seen them act that way so many times before, he would have been worried.  But he was confident that by the time the train reached Hogwarts they would have made up.

        It was near dark when the carriages full of Hogwarts students arrived at the gigantic, old castle.  Not needing a teacher to guide them into the school, the older students proceeded to enter the castle and make their way into the Great Hall.

        The Gryffindor table was nearly full when Harry took a seat at it.  Not surprisingly, Ron and Hermione were already seated, talking amongst themselves.  He had purposely left their cart on the train and had declined to share a carriage with them on the ride over to Hogwarts, so they could work things out.  It looked like they had.

        When Ron saw Harry sit down at the table, he said, "look who's at the staff table."

        Harry assumed he was talking about Professor Lupin, but since he had promised Sirius he wouldn't let on he had known, he let his gaze fall on the head table.  Sure enough Lupin, with his graying hair and patchy robes was sitting to the right of Dumbledore, and Harry took note he was as far away from Snape as possible.  That didn't stop the potions master from sending him a sour look when Lupin wasn't watching.

        "Dumbledore brought Professor Lupin back," Harry said, excitedly.  His excitement wasn't false either.  Remus Lupin had been the one teacher he could trust.  He was more than happy to have him back.

        "Lupin's not the only one back," said Ron, indicating to the head table again.

        Harry hadn't noticed anyone else different at the table.  All the same professors were there, with the exception of Lupin, but then Harry noticed that there was one person missing and that was Madam Hooch.  In the place of the flying instructor and Quidditch referee was Oliver Wood.  Harry was more than a little shocked to see him.  Last he heard Wood had been playing keeper for Puddlemere United but was currently on the injured reserve list because his shoulders had been severely busted up by bludgers during a match.  What was he doing back at Hogwarts?

        Oliver Wood wasn't the only surprise; sitting two seats down from him was the former Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang.  She saw Harry looking at her and gave him a small smile, which he returned before turning back to the Gryffindor table, hoping no one had noticed.

        Ron raised an eyebrow at him as if to suggest why not go over there and say hi, but refrained from saying anything out loud, which Harry was grateful for.  Having the whole school watch him say hello to his ex-girlfriend was not something he wanted.  

        They had dated briefly last year, lasting only a couple of months, when they both realized they were better off friends.  They had ended things on good terms.  Harry had even received a few owls from her during the summer months, but she had never once mentioned anything about a posting at Hogwarts.

        Dumbledore stood up to speak then, gaining the respectful silence of the hall in a record time that only he could achieve.  "I have a few short announcements to make before we get on with the sorting," he said to the assembled students.  "For those of you who haven't already noticed, we have two new editions to our staff table, and one returning presence.  I'm proud to announce that Remus Lupin has accepted to take up his old position as Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.  I'm sure many of you will be happy to have him back."

        Every table gave Professor Lupin a long round of applause and cheers, everyone of course, except for the Slytherins.  Malfoy looked to be the most disgusted of the group.  Harry and Ron exchanged grins, knowing Malfoy's father had been unable to stop the reinstatement of Lupin.  

        "Former Gryffindor, Oliver Wood, has graciously accepted the temporary position of first year flying instructor until Madame Hooch returns from her long over due holiday in January," Dumbledore continued.  

        Wood received a rounding chorus of applause and even some cheering, the majority of it coming from the Gryffindor table.

        Dumbledore smiled before getting on with his final introduction.  "Miss Cho Chang, who graduated last year has also returned.  She will be apprenticing with Professor Flitwick until early March."

        The Ravenclaw table was the loudest this time as they applauded their former star seeker.

        Professor McGonagall took over from there.  She began the Sorting Hat ceremony, and once all the first years were sorted into their houses, the beginning of the school year feast started. 

        Eating and talking amongst his friends, Harry felt the worry he had been feeling since last night drain away from him.  Something about being back at Hogwarts and in the presence of Dumbledore made him feel like he could take on Voldermort at that very moment if he chose to attack.


	5. Preparing For The End

CHAPTER FIVE:  Preparing For The End

        "You've got to be kidding me," said Ron, practically choking on his toast as he read the piece of parchment in front of him.  "Please tell me I'm not the only one who found the mistake with our timetable."

        "I don't think they would print a schedule that had mistakes on it," came Neville Longbottom's response from across the table.

        Ron frowned, staring deeply at his timetable, as if that would make it change.

        "Cheer up," Hermione said, patting his hand and looking at her own schedule, which had considerably less free space then Ron's.  "It could be worse."

        "Worse?" He echoed.  "What could be worse then having to be dressed and outside for Defense Against the Dark Arts at six-thirty in the morning, not just once – but _twice_ a week.  Harry, tell me what could be worse then that?"

         Harry shrugged, suppressing the urge to grin.  "At least it's Lupin."

        "And that's going to make me feel a whole lot better when curses are being thrown every which way at me that I can't block 'cause I'm still half-asleep."

        "I'm sure there's a good reason for him having class that early," Hermione said to Ron.  "I'll see you two in transfiguration," she said, giving Ron a quick kiss on the cheek.  "I have to get to Arithmancy."

        "For a Head Girl, you sure have a lot to learn about picking courses.  You should have picked a sensible class like Divination."

        Getting to her feet, she let out a snort.  "I can't believe you two are still taking that rubbish."

        "It's my best subject, I'll have you know," said Ron proudly.  "What other class can you make everything up and get a hundred percent for it?"

        "He's got you there, Hermione," said Harry.

        She just shook her head.  "I'll see you two later."

        "I was thinking of holding the first Quidditch practice on Saturday morning," Harry said when she was gone.

        He was talking to Ron and anyone else still at the table that was on the Gryffindor team.

        "Makes sense," said Ron, biting into his second piece of toast.     

        "I heard Slytherin's starting practices this Thursday," spoke up Dean Thomas, who was the team's keeper.

        Harry looked over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy's smirking face could be seen as always.  But he was too engrossed in a conversation with Pansy Parkinson to pay any attention to Harry.

Turning away, Harry realized they should probably get going as well.  It was a long walk up to the north tower where Divination was.  "Let's go," Harry said to Ron.  "We still need to stop by Gryffindor Tower to get our stuff."

        For the first time since third year Harry actually found himself wishing the rest of his classes would hurry up and finish so he could get to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

        Remus Lupin stood in front of his second seventh year class of the day, each student giving him their rapt attention, waiting for him to start the lesson.  As they had shuffled in to take their seats, he received congratulatory comments from many of them.  He had smiled at each one in turn, not offering much more then a pleasant thank-you.  He couldn't bring himself to say more, knowing in a few minutes he would be the one to ruin the thrill and excitement that came with being Hogwarts soon-to-be graduating class.  He could have made up some lie about why Defense Against the Dark Arts was four times a week instead of the usual two, but they were old enough now that he felt they deserved to know the truth.  As it was, the chances of them having to engage in battle and fight for their lives before the school year's end were relatively high, and that seemed reason enough to tell them.  He had discussed his reasons with Dumblebore, who had whole-heartedly agreed.  That made Remus all the more sure of what he had to say to begin the term.

        "I want to thank all of you for making me feel welcome again," he started off.  "I've spent more time away from here then I would have liked."

        He thought about going into details about his being a werewolf, but that news had leaked out a long time ago, and he hoped that if anyone had a problem with it, they would come to him.  

        "I hate having to start off the term this way," he said, looking at the class, "but what I'm about to say will play a vital role in how you do in this class and all of your other lessons,"

        If it were possible, they seemed to be listening even harder to him now.

        "Before the end of this school year, the Dark Lord, Lord Voldermort, will very likely attack Hogwarts,"

        It was the exact reaction he had anticipated.  There weren't so many hushed whispering going on, as there were loud murmurings and gasps being heard across the classroom.  Many looked at him with frightened eyes, some even in disbelief.  He noticed Harry was the only one calm – pale – but calm.  He had been expecting that reaction from him.

        He waited until the noise had died down enough before speaking again.  "I don't say this to frighten you.  I tell you this because it is your right to know, even when certain individuals – who will remain nameless – thought you should be kept in the dark.  I will never do that do you.  Being naïve doesn't make you immune to what's going on around you.  

        "You must have noticed by now the extra Dark Arts classes on your timetable.  This is to prepare you for when the time comes to defend yourselves.  On Tuesday's and Thursday's we will meet in this classroom and do theory.  On Monday's and Wednesday's we will meet out on the main grounds for the practical part of the lesson.  We will spend the first few classes brushing up on the basics of throwing hexes and blocking them, and then build up from the curses you should have learned last year.  Starting next week until the end of term, Monday's classes will consist of hand-to-hand combat.  Each of you will learn to fight with something other then your wand.  You might think it silly because you've probably never seen a witch or wizard do battle with anything besides their wand.  But only have one means of defense to rely upon makes a person weak.  Your wand has become your crutch over the years, and I will do my best to get rid of that handicap.  You will learn how to handle swords, staffs, as well as countless other weapons, to ensure that you will never be caught unprepared in a situation that may require you to defend yourself."

        There was none of the loud discussions that had been going on before.  No one moved.  Every single student was sitting wide eyed, with their eyes trained on their professor who was telling them they would be fighting for their lives sometime before graduation.  Even the ones who had looked skeptical earlier were showing signs that they were as terrified as the rest.

        "I have to ask that none of you say anything to anyone below seventh year about what I've just told you.  The Headmaster will be holding an assembly for each grade tomorrow to explain personally what is happening.

        "I'm sorry that this burden has been dropped on you," he said, letting his shoulders sag slightly.  "I know what this final year is supposed to be like.  The workload is grueling, yes, but there are supposed to be more important things then that.  Your friends, for starters, and making this year count because it's your last one.  But there's no reason why any of you can't still have that.  You don't give up on life just because something bad might happen.  It is perfectly understandable if any of you wish to withdraw from Hogwarts now and continue your studies from home – but that does not mean you'll be any safer there.  At least if you're here you'll learn to defend yourself and maybe make a difference in the final battle.  But it is your choice to make.  I hope you choose wisely.  That's all for today's lesson."

        For once, there was deathly silence as the students filed out of Remus Lupin's class.  There were no more "congratulations, Professor" or "it's good to have you back, Professor."  Most had their heads hung low and no one looked at Remus before they left the classroom.

Looking at them now, Remus almost wished he could take back what he had said.  They had been so bright and full of life when they had first walked in, and now they looked defeated, like someone about to face death.  But knowing death might come for them was the first step towards defeating it.  He planned on giving them that fighting chance.

        The atmosphere was grim as the seventh years trudged down the hall for Potions, but this time it had nothing to do with Snape and the criticism he would throw at them just because they did not belong to his House.  Lupin had just confirmed what Harry had feared all along.  He was wondering how many would take up his offer and drop out when a strong arm shoved him to the side, almost sending him flying into a suit of armor.  Harry looked up in great surprise to see it was Ron who had done it.

        "How could you not tell us?" He demanded, his nostrils flaring.  "You knew all summer, didn't you?  And you didn't say one bloody word about You-Know-Who attacking Hogwarts!"

        "Ron, I didn't know for sure," Harry said, keeping his voice calm.

        "But you didn't think you should inform us?  You thought you'd be the lone hero again and deal with it yourself,"

        Harry was finding it hard not to lose his temper.  "That's not true and you know it,"

        "I'm sick of this bullshit, Harry," Ron swore.  "You keep us in the dark when it's as much our right to know as it is yours.  You don't think we should know that the people we care about could be in danger?  Would you even have said anything if Lupin hadn't?"

        It was more hurt than anger that Ron was expressing.  Harry had no answer for him, though.  If he was honest with himself, he never had any intention of telling Ron unless it became absolutely necessary.  

        "Thanks for trying to protect me," Ron stated coldly, before walking away, talking the stairs down two at a time.

        "Let him go," Hermione's voice said before he could take off after him.  "He needs some time to cool off,"

        He hadn't even noticed she had been there watching the whole thing unfold.

        He caught the accusing look in her eyes.  It was the same one that had been present in Ron's.  "You agree with him,"   

        "It would have been nice to know," she said, carefully avoiding answering Harry outright.  "I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but you shouldn't have kept from us something that will undoubtedly affect every one of us."

        He couldn't tell if she was angry or not, but she obviously wasn't okay with being kept in the dark.  She took the stairs down after Ron without waiting for him.

If it hadn't been the first day of classes Harry would have skipped Potions, not caring about the nasty punishment Snape would surely inflict on him afterwards.  

        Why was it every time when he thought he was doing the right thing, it still turned out to be wrong somehow in the end?  

        Ron still wasn't talking to him that night.  The three of them were sitting around a table, doing their homework, and each time Harry would ask Ron to pass him a book or a piece of parchment, Ron would give it to him but refused to make eye contact as he did so.  After an hour of getting the silent treatment, he announced he was going to the library.  

        Ron didn't even acknowledge he had spoken.  At least Hermione gave him a sympathetic nod as he gathered up his books into his school bag.

        He left Gryffindor Tower fully intending to go to the library, only he ended up running into an old friend along the way.

        "You look like you've had a rough day," said Cho, seeing his downcast expression.

        "I guess I kind've deserved it," he said with a shrug.

        "I'm on my way back to my room if you want to talk about it," she said.

        He didn't think that was such a good idea.  Even though Cho wasn't a real teacher he didn't think it would look good if someone saw him entering her room.

        Interpreting his hesitation, she said, "Harry, there's nothing wrong with you coming to my room so we can talk."

        He still wasn't fully convinced, but he went with her anyways.  

        She didn't try and make conversation with him, which made him feel a little more at ease.  He wouldn't have been able to make small talk at that moment if he tried.

        They came to a statue of a fierce-looking goblin, and Cho said, "Gillyweed,"

        The angry looking goblin promptly slid aside, revealing a doorway for them to enter.

        The inside looked like one of those spacious hotel rooms Harry had seen on television.  There was a fireplace in the living area and then one long hallway branched off in two different directions, presumably one for the bedroom area and the other for the kitchen.

        "Nice accommodations, huh?"  She said, seeing his expression.

        "Now I can see why you'd want to be a teacher," he remarked.

        He took a seat in the chair by the fire while Cho curled up on the sofa.

        They sat in silence for about ten minutes, just staring at the flames in the fireplace, when Harry finally said, "I thought you invited me here so we could talk,"

        "I did, but I think you have a lot more on your mind then I do."

        So he told her about Lupin's class and then Ron's reaction afterwards.  She didn't seem too surprised, which meant she must have already known.  She confirmed it when she spoke next.

        "I knew before I took the job what might happen, but I gave Dumbledore my word to keep quiet about it.  He didn't want rumours surfacing before school even started."

        "Do you think I should have told them?  Ron and Hermione, I mean."

        "Harry, you made your choice based on the fact that you thought you were doing the right thing at the time."

        "It obviously wasn't the right one."

        "Maybe you should have trusted them to handle it.  You three have been through so much together that it's like a slap in the face that you kept something this huge from them."

        He hadn't thought about it that way.  He thought he had been keeping them from worrying unnecessarily.  He hadn't wanted to ruin their summer.  He could stand being miserable – he had lived long enough with the feeling – but he would hate having to watch his friends suffer the same thing.

        "Nobody's perfect, Harry,"

        "Sometimes, I think – "

        "That you should be perfect?"  She cut in, raising an eyebrow at him.  "If you think like that you're only setting yourself up to fail every time.  No one can live with that kind of pressure on themselves."

        They stopped talking about mistakes and Voldermort a few minutes later.  Their topic of conversation moved to what they had done over the summer and Harry learned that Cho had taken an apprenticeship at Hogwarts so she could teach at a wizarding school down in Australia the following year.  That was where she was heading when March rolled around.  She told him they had fantastic Quidditch leagues down there, and that maybe she could join one of the minor league teams.  Teaching was her fall back plan if she wasn't good enough to make it to the professionals.

        Harry privately envied her.  She already had a good portion of her life figured out.  He had never really given much thought to life after Hogwarts.  There had always been something more pressing to focus on.  And here he was in his seventh year, still with no clue as to what he would do when he got out into the wizarding world.  Maybe a better way to phrase it would be what would he do if he lived to see graduation?  


	6. Modern Teen Witch

CHAPTER SIX:  MODERN TEEN WITCH 

          "Where were you last night?"

        It took Harry a moment to realize the voice was speaking to him.  He looked up from his breakfast, a little surprised to find that it was Ron who was talking to him.

        "I was here," Harry answered, even though he knew the reply wouldn't be good enough to satisfy Ron's curiousity.

        "What I meant was you didn't sleep in the dorm last night," Ron said, clarifying his earlier question.

        For someone who had spent most of yesterday pretending he didn't exist, Ron was showing an obnoxious interest in his nighttime whereabouts.  "I was with Cho," he said quietly, hoping that Ron would get the message and drop the subject.

        "So you spent the night with her but the other day you didn't even want to go up and say hi to her?"

        He couldn't have said it any louder.  Dean and Seamus had stopped their conversation to stare at him with curious expressions, and even Neville looked interested.  Harry noticed Ginny sitting on the other side of Neville.  She gave him a quick look he couldn't interrupt before going back to her breakfast.

        "Nothing happened," Harry said in a hushed voice.

        There were snickers from Dean and Seamus.  Their brains couldn't fathom the possibility that a seventeen-year old guy could spend an entire night with a girl and have nothing happened.

        "We just talked, that's all," he insisted, growing annoyed.  "Now, can you guys drop it?"

        He wasn't sure if they believed him, but that was their problem.  He wasn't about to make up some erotic story about the other night with Cho just for his friends listening pleasure.  The damage had already been done though.  Watching Ginny pour over her morning post, he wondered how much of the conversation she had heard.

        "Is that Lavender's magazine you're reading?"  Ron asked Seamus, mildly disgusted that he would want to read anything to do with  'women stuff.'

        "Have you seen the pictures in this thing?"  Seamus said to him.  He closed the magazine and showed Ron the cover of _Modern Teen Witch_.  A very pretty brunette was winking at them from the cover.  "I borrowed it from Lavender,"

        Ron knew a better word might have been 'stolen.'  "You have a girlfriend, Finnigan, why do you need to look at that for?"

        "So do you Ron," Dean spoke up in defense of his friend, "but I'm sure _you_ still look,"

        "Well, maybe on occasion," Ron admitted.  It was true, he and Harry talked about other girls sometimes but that didn't mean he loved Hermione any less.  "But I don't start flipping through _Modern Teen Witch _looking at the photos," he added as an afterthought. 

        Seamus pointed to the brunette on the cover.  "Are you telling me you don't think she's attractive?"

        "She's pretty enough I suppose," he said with a shrug.

        "Neville," Seamus said turning to their accident-prone friend, "do you think she's attractive?"

        "Very," he responded, his face reddening.

        Turning back to Ron, Seamus said, "then why don't you look through this, Ron, and find someone you like,"

        He pushed it across the table so it landed in front of Ron, who cast a sidelong look at Harry before opening it.

        Harry shrugged in return.  He had no desire to flip through a female magazine and read about all the different things teenage girls said about guys.  He felt he was better off not knowing.

        "Morning," Hermione said cheerfully, joining them at the table.

        "Morning!"  Ron said a little too quickly in return.  He kissed her while trying to maneuver the magazine out of sight with his free hand.

        "What are you looking at?"  She asked, interested.

        "Uh, nothing," he said lamely, trying in vain to cover it with his hand.  "It was just some magazine Seamus wanted to show me.  It's all about Quidditch, you wouldn't be interested,"

        Hermione wasn't daft.  The worst thing Ron could have done was lie to her when she was sitting right there and from her vantage point could clearly tell it wasn't Quidditch, even with his hand covering half the page.

        She lifted his hand from the page covering a photo of a blonde witch, showing off the new summer line of bathing suits.  Every few seconds the picture would change and she would be clothed in a different one.

        "You know, you'd be surprised at the amount of good articles _Modern Teen Witch _has," he said to her.  "Right?"  He shot meaningful looks at the other Gryffindor boys.

        "A good read," said Seamus automatically.

        "Very," Dean agreed, nodding.

        "And the photos are amazing," Neville supplied.

        Ron visibly cringed.  Putting on his best innocent expression he turned to look at Hermione.  He found his breathing slowed back to normal when she didn't appear angry.  She didn't even seem to care for she was already reaching for the jug of orange juice and unfolding her morning copy of the Daily Prophet.  Not wanting to put his foot in his mouth any further, he pushed the magazine back to Seamus.  "_Thanks,_ Seamus,"

        "Hey, my magazine," said Lavender Brown, sitting down on the bench beside Seamus.  "If you wanted to look at the pictures that badly you could have asked instead of just taking it," she scolded him.  She was speaking to Seamus but she was glaring daggers at her boyfriend Dean when she said it.

        "Did you get all of the transfiguration homework?"  Ron asked Hermione, hoping to draw her away from the conversation.  

        "I did, yes,"

        "Then maybe you could check over mine to make sure I did it right?"

        Harry smirked into his food.  Ron was using homework to take Hermione's attention off the magazine, and it seemed to be working.  His quick thinking had probably saved him from a very embarrassing row in front of the entire Great Hall.

        He suddenly felt very alone at the Gryffindor table.  He and Neville were the only seventh year boys who hadn't managed to find themselves girlfriends.  _You might be lonely but you're not alone_, Hermione's words came back to him.  Instinctively, he found himself looking down the table at the spot occupied by Ginny Weasley only moments before. 

        It was the first and probably last Friday where Harry and his fellow seventh years had received only a minimal amount of homework from each of their professors.  After the other Gryffindor boys had left him abandoned to a table by himself (likely to spend time with their significant other), he spotted Ginny sitting alone on the couch by the fire, scribbling on a piece of parchment with a textbook open beside her.

        "Hey," he greeted, walking over to where she was stationed.

        "Hi," she said, barely looking up from her work.

        "What are you working on?"  He asked with as much interest as he could.

        "The first half of my Potions homework,"

        "Need any help?"

        "No, I'm fine, thanks,"

        He was bothered by her distant behaviour.  She wasn't exactly acting cold towards him but she didn't seem to be too interested in talking to him either, leaving Harry to speculate if it had anything to do with what she had overheard at breakfast.

        He moved so he was sitting on the arm of the couch, his feet resting on the cushions beside her hand.  "Er, you know nothing happened with me and Cho last night,"

        "What?"  She said distractedly, looking up from her work.

        "I spent the night in her room, but nothing happened,"

        "It's really not any of my business," she said briskly.

        He was confused.  Why was she acting like this?  He'd seen the way she'd looked at him in the Great Hall, like he had committed some gigantic scandal.  "I just wanted you to know that all we did was talk.  We're really good friends, but that's it,"

        "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Harry, okay?  I'm not your mother,"

        _Of course you're not because she's dead_.  The comment stung a lot more than he would have liked.

        "I'm heading up to bed," he said stiffly.  "I've got an early practice tomorrow,"

        She looked sorry for what she had said, but regardless of that he climbed the stairs to the seventh year boy's dorm, deciding sleep was definitely in order.  His last thought before his head hit the pillow was why anyone even bothered with relationships.   To Harry, girls seemed like one, gigantic headache.

        "You're pretty quiet tonight," said Ron, running his fingers through Hermione's hair.  She was lying snuggled up against his chest and hadn't said much more than a couple of sentences in the last half hour.

        "I just have some things on my mind," she told him.

        They had come up to her room earlier that evening to get started on their five-foot long parchment for Professor Lupin on the ten most commonly used defensive tactics for wizards.  They had gotten barely a foot written when Ron realized her heart just wasn't in it and suggested they take a break.  Usually she would fight him on it, but not that night.  That told him there was definitely something wrong.

For now, their parchment and books sat on one side of the bed, while they laid on the other half.  He had a feeling he knew what was bugging her, even it seemed utterly ridiculous to him.

        "You're not still thinking about that magazine, are you?"  He asked her.

        "No," 

        She was one of the worst liars he'd ever met, even worse then Harry – and that was saying something.  "I told you Seamus handed me the magazine and I was just quickly flipping through it," he said sitting up.

        Hermione moved so she was sitting in a cross-legged position.  "Why did you lie then?"

        He heaved a sigh.  "Because I knew you'd get all worked up like you are right now, and it would be for no reason."

        She wished she knew why it was bothering her so much.  She was thinking it was just a stupid magazine when she felt Ron tilting her chin up.

        "Hermione, I love you," he said looking her straight into her brown eyes.  "None of those witches in that stupid magazine can even compare to you.  Now do you really want to fight about this?"

        "We're not fighting," she clarified, "we're having a discussion,"

        "I'm not going to apologize for looking at it, if that's what you're waiting for.  In case you haven't noticed, Hermione, I'm a bloke!  There's nothing wrong with looking.  I'm sure you do it,"

        She looked at him sharply, but he was right.  Dating Ron didn't mean that she ignored the fact that there were other guys at Hogwarts, but that didn't mean he had to go and point that out.  "So you're saying you wouldn't have a problem with me looking at other guys?"

        "Are you crazy?  Of course I don't want you checking out other blokes!"

        She found she was growing as irritated with him as he probably was with her.  "So you can look, but I can't, is that it?"

        "Is there someone in particular you're interested in?"  He wanted to know.  "It's probably that Ravenclaw Nancy boy, Preston.  Someone needs to tell him that being Head Boy isn't a sacred duty to mankind,"

        "His name's, _Paul_," she informed him, "and he may be very studious, but he's actually a very nice guy,"

        "Why don't you go be his girlfriend then, since you seem to fancy him so much,"

        "Ron, you're being ridiculous,"

        "I'm being ridiculous?  Who's the one who's getting all worked up over some bloody magazine?"

        Maybe she was getting worked up over nothing, but Ron wasn't helping matters.  "I think you should go," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her comforter.

        "You're kicking me out because of this?" He exclaimed incredulously.  She couldn't be serious.  She was blowing the whole _Modern Teen Witch_ thing way out of proportion.  When he realized that she being serious, he got off the bed and began shoving his books in a hurried fashion into his school bag.  When he reached her door he turned around and said, "next time don't tell me I'm the one who's always starting stupid fights,"

        Then he flung the door open and let it slam shut behind him.


	7. The Science Of Boys

CHAPTER SEVEN:  The Science Of Boys

        For the third time that morning there was someone knocking at Hermione's bedroom door.  It had been Ron the other two times, so she had no doubt it was him again, trying to coax her either into coming out or letting him in.  She ignored the knocking like she had the previous times, using her homework as a focus for her concentration.

        It probably didn't look good that the Head Girl had locked herself in her room, but it was a Saturday and she had a lot of work to get done that weekend.  Fighting with Ron was not on her agenda for the day.  He was thickheaded but she figured he would take the hint eventually and leave her alone.

        The rasping sound at her door sounded louder the second time.  She sighed.  "Ron, go away, I'm working."

        "I'm not Ron and I'm not going away, so you better let me in Head Girl."

        She heaved a louder sigh this time.  Lavender Brown was on the other side of the door, and short of hexing her, Hermione didn't have much of a chance of making her go away.  Sharing a room with her for four years had taught her that much.

        Hermione unlocked the door and opened it, revealing a second unpleasant surprise.  Lavender's best friend, Pavarti, was standing there with her.  

        "It's about time," Pavarti said, hands on her hips.

        "What do you two want?"  Hermione said shortly.

        "Since you weren't at breakfast," said Lavender, pushing her way passed Hermione and into the room, "and we heard Ron talking to Harry about some fight he had with you, we thought we'd come up and see how you were doing."

        That was the biggest load of bullocks Hermione had heard in her life.  She and Ron had fought plenty of times in the past and the social high-class twins of Gryffindor had never come to check on her before.  "Why don't you tell me what you're really doing here?  I'm pretty sure it's not to check on my well-being."

        Lavender looked at Pavarti before saying, "you're upset with Ron because Seamus was showing him my magazine."

        "Maybe you should have eavesdropped a bit more closely because that's not what we were arguing about,"

        "We did," Pavarti chimed in.  "The words '_Modern Teen Witch_' popped up more than once."

        Hermione wished then she hadn't let them maneuver their way into her room.  If they were still in the hallway she could have closed the door on them and avoided feeling any more embarrassed about the whole thing.

        "I'm not mad at him," she tried unsuccessfully to convince them.

        "Yes, you are, but that's not why we came up here," said Lavender.  "We're here to give you some advice."

        This just kept getting better and better.  If Hermione had never taken any advice from them in their previous six years at Hogwarts, she was definitely not about to start now.

        "Hermione, you've surrounded yourself with Harry and Ron for so long that you've forgotten they're both guys," Lavender began.  "I know you've known Ron a long time, but underneath all those years of friendship and everything else you've two shared he's still just a guy like the rest of 'em.  And with very few female influences here at Hogwarts that's why you've never noticed this before,"

        "So what you're saying is I'm being childish for catching my boyfriend looking at a few pictures and having it bother me?"

        "That's not it all," said Lavender, shaking her head.  "guys look at that stuff because it's in their nature.  I don't like it when Dean does it either, but it happens.  It's not right, but it also isn't wrong,"

        "I bet even Harry was looking at it," Pavarti said knowingly.

        Hermione had a hard time believing that.  Harry wasn't like other guys.

        "See, look, you're thinking like the best friend again, instead of like an objective woman," Lavender said, catching the way Hermione was mulling over Pavarti's assessment.

        "Harry's a decent guy," she said in her friend's defense.

        "But he's _still_ a guy, Hermione," Lavender insisted. "And the sooner you learn that the better.  Every guy, no matter how decent they are, all share the same common goal, and that's to have a good shag with some girl."

        "You may be the most book smart person here, Hermione, but when it comes to guys you really are a novice," Pavarti said to her.

        Though it came out sounding like an insult, Hermione didn't think that had been Pavarti's intention.  Really, all the other girl had done was state the truth.  When it came to the subject of boys, Hermione was as less experienced as Lavender and Pavarti were experienced in the area.

        Knowing she would regret it later, Hermione asked, "then what do you think I should do about Ron?"

        She caught the mischievous looks the best friends exchanged and was regretting her decision already.

        "If you're going to fight with him about this, at least make it worth while," Lavender said.

        "I don't fight with him so I can make it 'worth while'," she said sharply.

        "If you want to teach Ron a lesson, maybe you should make an exception this time,"

        Hermione was digging herself a deeper hole by asking, "how?"

        Seeing they had finally sparked the Head Girl's interest, Pavarti walked over to her and said, "like this,"

        Before Hermione could do anything to stop her, the other girl had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse.

        "What are you doing?"  Hermione shouted at her.

        "Helping you make a statement," Lavender told her, coming to stand beside Pavarti.  "Trust us, Hermione. If you straightened your hair a bit and added a little makeup you'd have Ron ogling over you instead of any photo,"

        "No way," said Hermione adamantly, stepping away from both of them.  "I am not letting you two do some makeover to me,"

        "You don't need a makeover," Pavarti said, assessing Hermione's appearance. "You're already beautiful, you just need a little something to help you stand out."

        _I can't believe I let things go this far_, Hermione thought with some shame.  "I appreciate you coming here and educating me on the subject of guys and their needs, but I am not doing anything to change myself, not even if it's to prove a point.  Now if you two don't mind I have a lot of work to do."

        Looking somewhat defeated that she hadn't taken them up on their offer, they vacated her room.  And it couldn't have been at a better time, because for about two seconds there Hermione had actually considered their insane idea.

        Hermione felt more than a little ridiculous standing outside the Great Hall entrance.  She wasn't sure if it was because she had let Lavender and Pavarti get to her or the fact that she had done this to herself without their help.  It wasn't as if she had done anything too drastic, but it was enough to have her worried that everyone would turn to stare at her.

        When Lavender and Pavarti had left her room, she had gone back to her essay for Professor Lupin's class only to give up on it an hour later when her mind refused to focus.  

        As Head Girl, and before that when she had been a Prefect, she had gotten her own bathroom, but she had never really made much use of it before this morning.  She had never taken that long to get ready so her roommates had always been more than happy to let her use the bathroom first.  But this morning she had made full use of the luxury of not having to worry about anyone else needing it.  

        She had tried to rationalize her decision by thinking that it wouldn't be such a bad thing if she fixed herself up a bit, when all along she knew the real reason for it was to see the expression on Ron's face when he saw her.  

        So using one of the many charms she had come across in her readings, she straightened her hair completely, making it lose all of its natural curls and puffiness.  Next came the hard part.  Her mother had bought her makeup over the years to wear on special occasions, but she had rarely ever touched it – especially at Hogwarts.  There just didn't seem a point to it.  She was there to learn not to get noticed.

She had considered asking Lavender or Pavarti, but her ego wouldn't allow it.  She had scolded them too much over the years for worrying about makeup to ask for their help with it now.  She was quite pleased with herself when she looked in the mirror afterwards and could see she was still wearing less than either one wore to Lupin's early morning classes.

        She had rushed out of Gryffindor Tower for lunch, passing only a few second years in the common room on her way out.  She had made it downstairs before noticing that the top two buttons on her blouse were still undone.  Feeling a surge of confidence that she didn't know she possessed, she left them that way.  

        That confidence wasn't making walking into the Great Hall any easier.  Taking a deep breath to steady her fluttering stomach, she started walking.

        She had this horrible fear that everyone would stop talking and stare at her, but that never happened.  The discussions going on at the different house tables continued, no one even looked up at her as she passed.  So far, so good.  It wasn't until she was almost at the Gryffindor table when Neville saw her and his eyes widened.  Hermione swallowed as she watched him elbow Ron in the side.  Ron looked up and his mouth fell open when he saw her.  Harry, who was sitting across from him turned around to see what was going on and his expression mirrored Ron's.

        _Every guy, no matter how decent they are, all share the same common goal, and that's to have a good shag with some girl_,Lavender's voice rang in her head.

        She took a seat, glad to see that not everyone was staring in her direction – not that she looked up very far, because she couldn't bring herself to look at Lavender or Pavarti.  They would undoubtedly be giving her their biggest _we knew you wanted to do this all along_ look because she had gone ahead with their advice, even after kicking them out of her room in a huffed state.

        Ron having remembered that his mouth was still hanging open, closed it, while she took a seat on the bench beside him.

        "Hi," she said shyly, piling food onto her plate without looking at what it was.  When he continued gaping at her, she said, "you're staring at me,"

        That seemed to knock him out of whatever trance he'd been in.  "You're – you're wearing makeup," he stammered.

        She couldn't keep her face from going red at his comment.

        "You never wear it," he went on.  "Why are you wearing it?"  

        She didn't reply, opting instead to pick up her goblet of pumpkin juice and drink from of it.

        "You're still on about that bloody magazine, aren't you?"  He said, as realization dawned on him.  She heard him swear under his breath.  "Are you ever going to let it go?"

        "Maybe I decided I just wanted to dress myself up a bit," she said coolly.  

        "What would you do that for?"

        A noticeable hush fell over the table when he said that, and Hermione found herself clenching her fists under the table.  She looked at Harry for support, but all he did was stare back, silently begging her not to drag him into this.  

        "I certainly didn't do it for you, so don't worry," she snapped at him.

        "So who are you dressing like a slut for then?"

        "RON!"  Harry had brought himself into it then.  His expression was furious as he stared down Ron.  "Apologize for that, now!"

        Whether Ron was going to apologize or not, Hermione never found out.  "Don't bother," she said, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt,  "you're slutty girlfriend is leaving."

        She thought he would follow her, but then again, even Ron had enough common sense to know he was the last person she wanted to speak with.

        For the first Quidditch practice of the season Harry had expected his team to be a little rusty, but not the completely terrible performance he had gotten out of his players.  They practiced like they had only played the game a few times in their life, when most of them had at least three years of experience or more.

He should have known the practice was doomed the moment Ron turned up at the pitch in a foul mood.  They did some basic practice drills before mounting their brooms and starting the real practice.  Seamus and Dennis Creevy, two of the team's Chasers, took turns throwing the Quaffle at Dean to warm him up.  It took about a good fifteen minutes before Dean was close to the Keeper form he was last year.  Then it was time to scrimmage.  Harry wanted to see how well they played and then the next practice they would work on tactics.  This practice was simply to get the Gryffindor team back into the Quidditch frame of mind.

        Things might have gone better if Ron had been thinking with his head instead of his temper.  Ron was normally a very good Chaser, but his head was somewhere else today.  He hogged the Quaffle so much that it got to the point where Seamus and Dennis were teaming up against him to steal the Quaffle instead of helping him score.  It ended up in a nasty yelling match on the ground, leading Harry to believe that's what Ron had secretly been aiming for all along.

        After putting himself between Ron and Dean, who was sticking up for Seamus, Harry called the practice.  With everyone's temper running high, they were somewhat slow to depart.  After finally having convinced Seamus that punching Ron in the face would not solve anything and getting his Chaser to walk back and take a cold shower, Harry was beginning to wonder how stupid Ron could be for trying to challenge the entire team.

        When it looked like Harry had everyone trudging back to the school – in dark moods, no less – he called after the instigator of it all.  "Ron, stay behind,"

        Most of the anger had melted from Ron's posture but he had his arms folded over his chest and was staring at Harry in a way that meant he was anything but calm.

        "The captain wants a word with me?"  

        Ron was testing him, and Harry hated talking to him when he was being totally irrational like this.  "What the hell is your problem, Ron?"  His voice betraying the anger he was feeling.  "The Quidditch pitch isn't your personal arena to take out the problems you're having with Hermione,"

        Ron took offense.  "Hey, I came here to practice."

        Harry felt himself rapidly losing his head.  "That is such a load of shit, Ron.  You came down here to take out your frustrations on us.  In case you haven't noticed we're all on the same team!"

        "Look, Harry, if you've got something to say just say it," said Ron.

        "You were so out of line today," Harry said, taking a step towards him.  "You had no right to call Hermione _that_."  He couldn't even bring himself to say the word.  How could Ron have even considered that word in connection with her?

        Ron hung his head and ran his hands through his sweat-tangled hair.  "I know I shouldn't have said that.  I lost my head for a moment.  But what was she trying to prove anyways?"

        "Maybe she wasn't trying to prove anything.  There was nothing wrong with the way she looked." 

        "Of course you wouldn't think that," said Ron, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at his best friend.  "I saw the way you looked at her."

        Harry couldn't believe what he had just heard.  "Ron, are you hearing yourself?  I wasn't looking at her like that," 

        "Whatever, Harry," Ron mumbled, seemingly unconvinced.  "Are we done here?  I'd like to take a shower now,"

        "Yeah, we're done," 

        Ron started back for the castle, Harry waiting a few minutes before following.  He wanted to ensure there was a safe distance between himself and Ron.  

        Ron stormed through the portrait hole.  He kept his gaze focused on the staircase that lead to the boy's dormitory, completely ignoring everyone in the common room.  He heard Harry enter a few moments later, but didn't stop. He didn't need another lecture from his _captain_, especially in front of half of Gryffindor.

        Harry thought about following Ron up to the boy's dorm to finish their conversation, but he knew that it would accomplish nothing except more shouting and maybe a few thrown punches.  

        He spotted Hermione and Ginny sitting on one of the couches in the common room.  He flung himself down on the chair across from them.

        "Rough practice?"  Hermione guessed, seeing his strained look.

        He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  "What practice?  It was more like a free-for-all."

        He explained to the both of them Ron's attitude and what had happened down at the pitch.

        "Hermione, can you please talk to him?  He's been unbearable all day.  He even accused me of checking you out at lunch today,"

        Both girls gave him a look.

        "Which I wasn't of course," he added quickly.

        Hermione sighed.  "If he has something to say, then he can say it to me, but I'm not going to him.  He made himself pretty clear at lunch what he thought of me,"

        "You know, Ron, he thinks with his temper instead of his head.  I think he just didn't know how to react,"

        "You were all ready to jump across the table and come to my rescue when he called me _that_ name, and now you're defending him, which is it Harry?"

        He wished now he had just refrained from saying anything, because somehow he seemed to have made her angry with him.  "I'm not defending him," he tried to tell her.  "What he did was wrong, but can't you two just talk it over like you always do?"

        "I refuse to talk to Ron because I'm making a point," she said simple.  Gathering her books off the sofa, she walked towards the portrait hole and left Gryffindor Tower.

        Harry turned to face Ginny, who was still sitting there.  "And what point would that be?"

        "You wouldn't understand," she replied.

        If Harry heard right it sounded like she was a bit ticked off with him.  _What did I do_?

        "Don't worry about my brother and Hermione," said Ginny afterwards.  "They're both as stubborn as Hippogriffs, but they'll work through this – if they don't kill each other first." 

        Harry didn't find that last thought comforting at all.  But he had seen them beyond furious with each other many times before.  Hopefully by Monday morning things would blow over because he was not looking forward to facing either one of them with weapons while they were like this.


	8. Lupin's First Lesson

CHAPTER EIGHT:  Lupin's First Lesson

        When Monday morning came around the situation with Ron and Hermione had not improved.  But Harry figured that was what happened when you were too stubborn for your own good.  Ron refused to apologize and it didn't look like Hermione would accept it even if he did.  The one thing Harry never understood about them was how they could fight so much, even over the littlest things, and yet still manage to maintain a strong, lasting relationship.  

Harry had really thought that once the weekend was over they would bury the hatchet and make up, but that seemed to be the furthest thing on either one of their minds.  Hermione was trying to prove some point that Harry didn't understand – at least Ginny had said he wouldn't understand.  She probably thought it was because he was a guy, and maybe she was right, but Hermione was one of his best friends so he would have at least tried to.  

He had learned move then he ever needed to know about their relationship when Fred and George had decided it would be fun to take their youngest brother out for his seventeenth birthday and get him drunk.  They had gone to The Burrow for Easter, and since the twins no longer lived there, they had left Harry with the job of sneaking their completely smashed brother into the house.  While Harry had walked him home, Ron had divulged an enormous amount of private information concerning his and Hermione's relationship.  For days afterwards, Hermione had kept giving him strange looks because Harry had been unable to look her straight in the face.  He would never be able to look at her and see the same innocent, and uncorrupted schoolgirl ever again.   He knew that the fight she and Ron were having now would be nothing compared to the all out row they would have if she ever found out what Ron had told him.  Not that Harry would ever say anything. He was perfectly content to keep his mouth shut and play dumb concerning all areas of his friend's sex lives.

        He was on his way to his first early morning Dark Arts class, practically dragging Ron with him, wondering when his best friend would realize that the reason he wasn't apologizing was because he liked how Hermione looked, he just didn't want to admit it.  Then that would lead to admitting he liked looking at the witches in _Modern Teen Witch_.  Hermione didn't look like the models in the magazine – and Harry hated to admit it, even if only to himself – but Hermione's minor changes looked good on herself.  She hadn't even done that much in the first place.  Whatever point she was trying to make, it was working by the way she wore her skirt a little higher and walked through the halls with more confidence then he had ever seen her.  Though if he valued his life, he would never mention those things to Ron.

        He and Ron were near the last of the students to arrive out on the green grass surrounding the castle.  Hermione was there already, standing beside Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff.  She said hi to Harry when they came over, while she and Ron just glared at each other.  

        When everyone was present, Remus Lupin stood in the middle of the assembled students.

        "I hope everyone had a good weekend," he said smiling at them.  "Now, if you would please take out your essays on traditional defense tactics."

        Smirking at Ron, Hermione pulled hers proudly out of her bag.  Of course it was almost three feet longer then what Lupin had asked for.  Ron just rolled his eyes while he pulled out his own assignment, which was barely long enough – and that was with large writing.

        When everybody had theirs out, Lupin said, "now, tear them up."

        Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs started looking at each other in confusion.  Surely, they had heard him wrong.

        "You heard me right," said Lupin, seeing their confused faces.  "I want you to rip those pieces of parchment until there's nothing left.  Can anyone tell me why?"

        No one had an answer.  Hermione looked like he had just told them they would be receiving no further homework for the rest of the term.

        "Because if these are commonly used defensive techniques," Lupin began when no one raised their hand, "chances are your opponent will already know what you're trying to do, and come up with a counter attack.  What I'm going to teach you are far less traditional methods, but are just as effective, if not more.    So, go on, tear them right up.  I want you to forget every word you wrote about."

        Still somewhat unsure, the class began tearing up their essays.  For those who had put little effort into theirs, like Ron, he did it with a triumphant grin on his face.  He turned to Hermione, who was still looking as though someone had died.  She was holding out her essay in front of her, but made no attempts to rip it up.

        Ron grinned widely at her.  "Want some help with that?"  

        She gave him a nasty look in return.

"I reckon this was actually worth getting up early for," Ron said to Harry, watching Hermione carefully rip up her parchments.

"Oh, shut up, Ron," she snapped.  All her hours of research, gone….

        "Now that we have that piece of housekeeping out of the way, it's time for our first practical lesson to begin," Lupin announced, taking out his wand.  "Today will simply be a review of the hexes and attack methods you learned last year, since I believe we're all in need of removing the cobwebs that have grown in our brains over the summer.  While we're doing that, I will come around to each pair and show you one of the more simpler defense shields.  On Wednesday, we will begin advanced fighting techniques.  Now, everyone partner up."

        Harry partnered up with Ron since Hermione already seemed to have partnered herself with Hannah.  

        They took turns throwing hexes and curses at one another, using the defensive techniques they already knew, until Professor Lupin came around to demonstrate a new one to each pair.  

        By eight o'clock, they were sweaty and achy.  The defensive moves Lupin had showed them were not easy.  It was only near the end of the class that Harry was finally able to perfectly block Ron's cruses.  In a few hours time he would have the bruises to show the ones he had been unsuccessful in blocking.  

        They had just enough time to go to the Great Hall and grab something to eat before Potions started.  For once, Harry was actually looking forward to it.  He'd be able to sit down and work at his cauldron, and the worst that could happen would be Snape's resentful insults directed at him.  But after the exhausting Dark Arts class he had just had, he found that treatment preferable.

        P_anicked and scared, Harry raced from corridor to corridor.  He didn't know why it was so dark.   There should have at least been some light coming from the torches set up in each hallway.   He took out his wand and muttered "_lumos_", but the tip of it refused to glow, which only served to increase the feeling of dread growing inside him.   His only source of light was what little managed to sneak through the windows, and the ever increasing occurrence of lightning striking somewhere in the distance.  He was constantly having to skid to a halt to keep himself from running into statues and suits of armor._

_        He didn't understand the anxiety he was feeling as he continued to propel himself forward.  It was almost as if he were waiting for an attacker to jump out from the shadows at any second.  He didn't know what he was running to – or perhaps running from.  What he did know was that he had to get to Gryffindor Tower.  For what reason, it did not matter.  He just knew he needed to be there._

_        Harry forced himself to run harder, ignoring the aches in his side.  He took all the familiar staircases and hallways.  He was almost there when he become aware that something was terribly wrong.  His scar started throbbing, but even doubled over in pain he forced his way towards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower._

_        But blocking the portrait of the Fat Lady was a towering figure wrapped in a dark cloak.  If that wasn't terrifying enough, two bodies were lying on the floor beside it.  Harry was still too far away to see who they were, but the sense of dread in the pit of his stomach increased tenfold with each step he took.  _

_        A mocking, almost evil laughter came from the cloaked figure.  Harry still couldn't see its face, but the hissing, cruel laughter gave away what was hiding underneath.  _

_        "What a foolish boy," the eerie voice spoke.  "How long did you think you could protect them from me?"_

_        Lightning flashed, and Harry was now close enough to see the two bodies sprawled on the ground belonged to Hermione and Ron.  Their eyes were shut and dark pools of something he couldn't see covered the floor around them.  He didn't need to get any closer to confirm what he already knew.  _

_        He felt nauseous and lightheaded and angry all at the same time.  No one should have to see their two best friends, lying in their own blood, dead.  He fought to get a hold of his emotions, but it wasn't working.  Without giving it conscious thought, his wand was out and pointed at the thing wearing a cloak.  The thing that had murdered his friends without a second thought.  _

_        The creature laughed, a much more crueler laughter than before.  "You will learn your place, Harry Potter," it said.  A scaly hand snaked out from underneath and a crackling energy shot out from it, hitting Harry with full force and knocking him onto his back on the stone floor.  The pain from his scar was beyond any excruciating agony Harry had ever known._

_        "You failed, like always," the voice hissed.  "This time your failure will mean your death,"_

_        The hood came off, revealing a grotesque and, deeply disfigured face with grayish skin.  Paralyzed with pain, Harry was powerless to get out of the way as the hideous snake-like creature advanced on him at an inhuman speed…_

Gasping, Harry's eyes snapped open and he bolted up in his bed.  It was a full minute before he realized he was in the seventh year boys' dorm and it had only been a nightmare. 

        Shaking, he fell back against his pillows, wishing he had cast a silencing charm around his four-poster before he had gone to bed.  His fear that his roommates had overheard his nightmare vanished after a quick look around the room revealed everyone was sleeping soundly, no one even stirred.  The only sounds that could be heard were Ron's snores along with Neville's heavy breathing.  

        He sat up again and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  Still breathing hard, he ran his hands through his sweat-tangled hair.  He knew from past experiences it would be quite awhile before he calmed down enough to go back to sleep.  His clock on the nightstand read two-oh-five.  It would be safe to go down to the common room – no one would be down there at this hour.  He thought about bringing his Transfiguration textbook with him and doing the reading he was supposed to have done before he had gone to bed, but he wasn't in the frame of mind to concentrate on schoolwork, so he nicked the idea.  

        Putting on his glasses, he made as little noise as possible leaving the dorm and quietly made his way down to the common room.

        His earlier assumption that no one would still be up turned out to be wrong.  

        Even with him only being able to see just the top of the head over the back of the couch, he knew it was Ginny who was still up.  Her long, red hair was clearly visible over the top of the couch.  He considered just going back upstairs but he didn't want to chance waking Ron or someone else up and have them wanting to know what he was doing up at this time of night.  

        He walked around to the front of the couch, where she had several books opened up on the coffee table in front of her.  A creak from the floorboards made her jump in alarm.

        "Harry!  What are you doing up?"

        "I'm not the only one who should be in bed," he remarked, flopping wearily onto the couch beside her.

        After rubbing the sleep out of her eyes she could see how worn out he looked.

        "Are you okay?"  She asked him.

        "Just trouble sleeping," he said, keeping his eyes locked on the dying fire.  "Nothing new."

        She closed the book she was reading and put it with the others in front of her.  "Do you want to talk about what's keeping you awake?"

        He didn't want to burden her with his insomnia, and regretted not taking the stairs back up to the dormitories when he had the chance.  "No, that's okay.  I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing down here.  I think I'll go back upstairs now."

        He was off the couch, desperately wanting to get back upstairs, and would have, if Ginny had not said what she had.

        "You had a dream about Tom,"

        He stopped halfway between the stairs and the couch.  It wasn't because she had guessed his dream correctly, but because of how she had referred to Voldermort as Tom Riddle.  He found it almost impossible to think of his enemy as the boy he had once been.  It sent a chill up his spine to have Ginny refer to him back when he was still human.  

        Within moments, he was back on the couch beside her.  He didn't know what to say so he was quiet.

        "I know you have nightmares about him," she said slowly.  "If I had them, then obviously you would too."

        "You have nightmares too?"  He said, somewhat in shock, even though a part of him knew he shouldn't have been.

        "Not anymore," she told him.  "But I used to have terrible ones about Tom Riddle after everything that happened with the Chamber of Secrets," she admitted.

        He felt like a fool for not knowing that.  She had been through a terrible ordeal, much like the ones he had gone through but he had never considered how much she had suffered.

        There was something he needed to know.  Something that had been bothering him since he had decided to stay in the common room with her.  "Why do you keep referring to him as Tom?" 

        "Because everything that happened with the Chamber of Secrets was with Tom before he became the Dark Lord.  He had obviously already started down that path, but he was still human.  Unlike you, Harry, I've never faced him as anything but a teenager.  Our nightmares are about the same person, but they're two different people."

        "Why didn't you tell anyone?"  He was pretty sure she hadn't because Ron would have told him if she had been having nightmares.

        She shrugged and looked down at her lap.  "I was already in enough trouble.  Everybody was watching me so closely for about a year after, that I didn't want them to know I was still being bothered by it – that he still had a hold on me.  My mum wouldn't have let me come back here if she knew that.  I just wanted everyone to trust me again."

        "I'm sorry," he said.  It was about five years too late, but he didn't know what else to say.  He gave her leg an awkward pat, but she seemed to appreciate the gesture because she put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze.  

        "I wish you would have said something," he said after several moments of silence, his hand still on her leg with hers resting on top.  

        "It was my secret to keep," she said.  "You're doing the exact same thing, aren't you?"

        "It's different," he said, moving his hand out from underneath hers.  The moment had passed and he was starting to feel awkward again.

        "How is it different?"

        "It just is," he insisted.

        She didn't like that answer.  "You think everyone expects you to be unbreakable, that you've even started believing it yourself.  Well, you're not, Harry, and the more you try and keep yourself devoid of emotion and feelings, the less human you are and the more like Voldemort you become."

        Not bothering with her books, Ginny left for the girl's dormitory, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. 


	9. Promises And Cover Up's

CHAPTER NINE:  PROMISES AND COVER-UP'S

        "Harry!"

        Harry looked up through the crowds of students shoving their way through the halls in an attempt to get to class, and spotted Oliver Wood making his way towards him.

        "Hey, Oliver," Harry greeted him.

        "Do you have class now?"

        Harry sighed.  "Yeah, potions,"

        Oliver grinned.  "I definitely don't miss that great git Snape at all."

        "How's flying lessons going?"

        Wood gave a slight shrug.  "I don't see them being Quidditch players anytime soon, but they'll learn."

        "How long do you think you'll be on the injured reserve for Puddlemere?"

        "Dunno," he said, scratching his head.  "The doctors figure it'll be another couple of months before I could even think about practicing with the team.  But what do medwizards know anyways?"

        Harry noticed how the hallway had emptied considerably since his conversation with Wood had started.  He groaned inwardly.  It would be the second time that week he was late for potions.  Snape would not be pleased to say the least.

"I heard you've started up practices already," Wood said admiringly.

        "We're all a bit a rusty so I thought it was a good idea."

        "And you all used to call me crazy for practicing a month before the season started," Wood said in a reminiscent tone.

        "Yeah, well, you were a bit crazy, Oliver."

        "You have to be to play Quidditch," Wood told him.  "Listen, I've got a class to teach, but I'd like to come watch the next Gryffindor practice – maybe even offer your team some pointers."

        "Come by the pitch tomorrow night around six, we'll be there." 

        Wood nodded, smiling.  "Great, I'll see you then."

        He gave Harry a slap on the shoulder before taking off in the opposite direction.

        Harry didn't know why he was running to get to class.  Whether he was two minutes late or ten, it made no different to Snape – especially if it was him.

        He raced down the stone steps to the dungeons, finding the classroom door already shut.  Gritting his teeth, he opened it and walked in.  It was bad enough that all eyes turned to face him, but then he had Snape advancing on him.

        "Potter, how many times have I told you tardiness will not be tolerated in my class?"  The Potions Master snapped at him.  "But I suppose if it didn't sink in the first hundred times I told you, I'm just wasting my breath."

        "Sorry, Professor," he said in his best, fake apologetic voice.

        "Take a seat, boy and ten points from Gryffindor for your second late this week."

        Harry hurried to take his seat at the back of the class where Ron and Hermione already had a cauldron set up.

        Malfoy didn't miss the opportunity to leer in his direction as he walked passed, but Harry ignored him.  He did not need any more points taken off by Snape.

        "It's probably not a good idea to piss Snape off this early in the semester," Ron said to him in a low voice as Harry took a seat beside him.

        "I was talking to Wood, he's going to come watch practice tomorrow.  Maybe offer his advice."

        "We're working on sedative potions," Hermione's voice broke in, mildly annoyed.

        Harry, taking the hint, dropped all Quidditch talk and removed his Potions text from his bag.  If he had a hope in hell of passing his NEWTS for this class, he was going to have to work extra hard this year.

        "Hey Weasley," came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy, "what happened to your girlfriend?  She actually looks somewhat decent now – for a _half-breed._"

        The vial of bat eyes Ron had been holding slipped from his hand, shattering into tiny, jagged pieces on their table.  Snape looked over at them in mild irritation at the disturbance.

        "Are you deaf as well as poor?"  

        Harry looked to Ron, ready to restrain him if it came to that.  It was the worst possible place to pick a fight with Malfoy with the Head of Slytherin house standing only a few feet away.  Ron's face was a mask, but he was staring down at his notes so hard, he looked like he was trying to see right through them.  

        "I have to say, Granger has pretty nice legs for a mudblood."

        Ron slammed his textbook shut so hard there was a resonating echo in the class.

        "Weasley!" Snape shouted at him.  "What are you doing besides wasting time?"

        Ron grumbled some response and went back to adding ingredients to the cauldron before Snape could take any points off.

        Harry could see Ron and Hermione exchanging looks, and there seemed to be some unspoken communication going on between them.  He couldn't believe Ron's restraint.  Harry, himself was ready to pound Malfoy into tomorrow, but Hermione silently shook her head, telling him Malfoy wasn't worth a semester of detentions with Snape.  

        For a good portion of the lesson, whenever Snape was on the other side of the room, Malfoy would continue to taunt Ron.  But his insults died down near the end when he realized he wasn't getting the response out of the Gryffindor that he would have liked.  Harry admired Ron's restraint.  He had never seen him keep such a cool head before, though he could see how much it was killing him to say nothing.

        When class was over, Ron was one of the first people out.  Harry had to hurry to catch up with him.

        "Hey, what happened in there?"  Harry said to him.

        "What do you mean?"  Ron asked as they walked.

        "How did you keep cool like that?  Malfoy's said less insulting things in the past and you've been ready to jump him."

        Ron sighed.  He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, before saying in a low voice,  "I made a promise."

        "A promise?"  Harry echoed.

        Ron indicated his head towards Hermione as she passed them.  She gave Ron a timid smile before continuing on.  "I promised her that I wouldn't let Malfoy draw me into another fight."

        So that's what all the looks between Ron and Hermione had been about during class.  "Are you sure you can keep it?"

        "I know we're not on the best of terms right now but I made her a promise.  And I plan on keeping it."

        Harry marveled at his friend's maturity.  It looked as though Ron had done a lot more growing up over the summer then he had given him credit for.

        The Gryffindor team had greatly improved its play since the last practice, Harry was happy to note.  They were starting to come together as the team they had been last year.  Harry had originally worried that Ron's suppressed anger at Malfoy would rear its ugly head at practice, but so far it hadn't.  Wood sat in the stands the whole time watching them.  Halfway through practice, Harry had looked down from his spot high in the air and saw Ginny sitting beside Oliver in the stands.  He found it rather unusual that she would come without Hermione.  

        When Harry had called the practice after a grueling two hours, he was barely on the ground before Wood was patting him on the back.

        "Nice job, Harry.  It's nice to know I left Gryffindor in such capable hands."

        "Thanks," Harry said, accepting the professional Quidditch player's praise gratefully.

        "You've got a lot of talent to work with.  Now, if the Chaser's work on their timing a bit, you would score a lot more points…"

        Harry found himself only half-listening to Wood's words.  He knew he should be taking any pointers he could get, but Ginny was standing right there with him and he wanted to ask her something before they got back inside.

        The team had already started back to the castle as Wood rattled on to Harry.  Harry didn't miss the suspicious look Ron gave Ginny as she stayed behind to listen to their Quidditch talk.

        "I'll try that next practice," Harry said, when Wood paused between thoughts.  "There's still time to improve.  The season doesn't start for another month."

        Wood nodded.  "I'll see catch you later, Harry.  Good practice again."

        He started back to the school, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

        "Good practice, Captain," Ginny congratulated as they started walking back, just the two of them.

        "I didn't know you were coming."

        She smiled sheepishly.  "There's only so much history of magic homework a person can do."

        "There's a Hogsmeade trip next weekend," he brought up suddenly.

        Ginny looked a bit surprised at the abrupt change of topic.  "Are you going?"

        "I'm going with Ron and Hermione, but I figured that if you were going too you should just come with us.  That is if you're going."  He said it all so fast he sounded like a babbling idiot.  Where was his Gryffindor confidence at the moment when he needed it most?

        The first coherent thought that entered Ginny's brain was did Harry Potter just ask her on a date?  She immediately banished the idea.  It was best not to let herself fall down that path again.  Besides, he had asked her several times last year to come to Hogsmeade with them.  But somehow it felt different this time.  Maybe it was because he sounded so nervous.  He had never acted that way any of the other times.

        "Sure, I'll come with you guys.  I don't think I have anything else planned."

        She thought he looked disappointed when she said the last part, but as soon as it flashed in his eyes it was gone, so she could not be sure.  She knew then she needed to stop reading into something that wasn't there.  She had decided to give up her crush on Harry last year.  It had been the only way for her to a form a friendship with him, and she did not want to start falling back on those feelings now.  _But old habits die hard_, she thought, remembering the muggle saying her father had told her once.

        As abruptly as it had been brought up, the subject of Hogsmeade was dropped, surprisingly replaced by the topic of Quidditch.  Harry began explaining to her the team Wood played on and why he had taken the temporary position at Hogwarts.  To her surprise, she found herself enjoying it.  Perhaps it was because he wasn't a fanatic about the sport like Ron.  Harry was passionate about it, but he knew there were other things in life besides Quidditch.  Like the Hogsmeade trip next weekend, for example.  Try as she might, she couldn't help herself from looking forward to it.

"It must be obvious by now those of you which will never possess the inner eye as a true Seer would, and those of you which are destined to do great things with your powers…"

        While Professor Trelawney drowned on and on about the majority of the class not living up her expectations, Harry did his best to look up every once in awhile and fake interest in what she was saying.  The rest of the time he was looking down at the letter hidden on his lap that he had received from Sirius.

        While Harry had been hoping that it would just be one of Sirius' usual letters wanting to know how he was doing, the tone throughout it had been rather grim.  If he had known that he would have opened it at breakfast, but he had too busy rushing through the last of his Divination homework to bother with it until now.  It said:

_        Harry,_

_Hope you're doing all right.  Moony tells me he's been working the seventh years pretty hard.  I told him to relax a bit and remember what our seventh year was like._

_ I didn't want to write you about this, but I think you should know what's going on so you can keep a head's up.  Over the past week there have been several attacks at different locations here in England.  No muggles were involved, thankfully.  Ministry authorities confirmed it to be the work of Death Eaters.  The dark mark was left on the skin of each of the victims.  As of yet, the ministry hasn't been able to find any connection between the attacks.  A few of the victims came from muggle heritage, but others have wizarding blood going back centuries. The theory going around is that You-Know-Who wants to get rid of anyone that didn't worship him during his first reign of power.   Naturally, the ministry is doing its best to cover up the attacks, not wanting to start a countrywide panic that the Dark Lord is on the move.  So far they've been able to keep it out of the _Prophet_ but who knows how long that will last with all the reporters nosing around the crime scenes. _

_        Sorry to just end this here but the ministry has asked me to do some investigative work for them since they are severely overworked and understaffed in recent weeks.  Take care of yourself, Harry, and I'll be in touch with you soon._

_        Sirius_

        The one piece of news that stuck out in Harry's mind was the ministry was actually trying use a cover story to keep the press from knowing what was going on.  When something eventually leaked out, there would be a scandal at the ministry.  People would demand to know why they had kept news of attacks from them.  Harry didn't blame them.  He could understand the ministry not wanting to cause a panic, but people had a right to know what was going on right under their noses.

Harry handed Ron the letter under the table for him to read.  

        Harry watched as Ron shook his head while he read the letter.  "Dad must be exhausted with all this," he said in a low voice so as not to be heard by anyone except Harry.  "Jesus, Harry, this isn't good news."

        "I know," Harry said, taking the letter back from him.  He stared down at it, frowning.

        "Stop it."

        "What?"  Harry said, looking up and seeing Ron's expression.

        "I know that look Harry, and whatever idea you're forming in that brain of yours, forget it.  You'd be an idiot to leave here.  Hogwarts won't be any safer with you gone.  You heard Sirius, even the families with long lines of wizarding blood are being attacked."  

        "I wasn't planning anything," Harry insisted.

        "But you were considering it,"

        "Maybe the thought had crossed my mind – "

        "Well, get it out of there.  Because the only thing that would come from you leaving is the rest of the school being left alone to fight your battle for you.  Do you think that for a second You-Know-Who would decide not to attack the school just because you've upped and left?"

        Harry fought down the urge to shiver.  Ron had called it _his_ battle.  No one had ever worded it like that before.  On some level he had always known it was his fight and his fight alone, but hearing Ron say it out loud struck something within him.  It might be his battle but he wasn't the only one fighting it.  He couldn't abandon any of them, no matter what happened.  

        "I'm not going anywhere," Harry assured him.

        "Good," said Ron, giving a nod of satisfaction.  "Glad to see I finally got through that bloody thick head of yours,"

        Harry had a comeback in mind, but Trewlany had begun giving them their homework assignment, and he figured he should probably listen even if he wouldn't understand the point of what she wanted him to do.  

        Five minutes later, they had the homework copied down (discuss how planetary shifts affect mood changes as shown on pages 105 to 112 of your text), they were exiting the perfume scented tower and on their way down to Professor Lupin's classroom.

        They ran into Hermione half way there, coming back from her Ancient Runes class.  She and Ron were actually having a normal voice, blame-free conversation while they walked to class.  Though the two of them seemed to be on better terms in recent days, Harry had a feeling the rows that had resulted following the _Modern Teen Witch _incident were far from water under the bridge.

        The trio went to take their usually spots near the front when they heard someone say, "Hermione, come sit over here!"

        Harry and Ron both looked puzzled when they found the source of the voice was Lavender.  Hermione gave them both a quick, apologetic look before sitting two aisles back at the end of a row with Lavender and Pavarti.

        "I must be losing my mind," Ron said to Harry in disbelief.  "She didn't actually ditch us to sit with the gossip queens, did she?"

        "Then I must be losing my mind too," Harry said, taking a seat.  "Because I'm seeing the same thing."

        "You know," Ron began, taking out his Dark Arts books, dropping each one on to the desk with more force then was necessary, "I thought once I started being _nice_ to Malfoy things would get better and she would go back to being the old Hermione.  I mean, she couldn't stand sharing a room with those two for four years and now she sits with them at class and sometimes at meal times.  I don't get her sometimes," he grumbled, shaking his head.  "Scratch that, I _never_ get her."

        "I think it's a girl thing," said Harry.  "At least that's what I understood from what Ginny was telling me."

        Ron cursed under his breath.  Why all of the sudden had she decided she wanted to become all girlie?

        "Good morning," Lupin said, walking into the class then.  He placed his tattered briefcase on the desk and pulled out some notes from inside it.  "Before we begin any fighting techniques with medieval weapons, I have some notes I'd like you to copy down and read over before next class.

        While Lupin began writing away on the blackboard, everyone took out their quills and silently began copying the note down.

        "Speaking of my sister," Ron said, while they wrote, "I heard she's coming with us to Hogsmeade."

        Harry's hand slipped, leaving a long, black smudge on his page.  "She's come with us before."

        "You could have told me you asked her."

        "I've asked her before.  Besides, I didn't think it was a big deal."

        "If it wasn't a big deal why didn't you say anything?"

        "Look, Ron if you have a problem with it – "

        "I don't," he cut in.  "Just forget I even brought it up.  She's coming and that's fine."

        Harry didn't understand his attitude.  It was like he had said, Ginny had come with them before, and Ron had never made a big deal out of it until now.  Ron had no reason to be suspicious of his motives just because he had asked his little sister to join them.  Was it his over protective brother instincts kicking in or did he simply not want her tagging along?

        They didn't talk much the rest of the class.  They had too many notes to copy that talking became a distraction that caused them to fall behind.  

        An hour later, Lupin dismissed them – all except for Harry.  Lupin asked if he wouldn't mind staying behind for a moment.

        Harry was at his desk, waiting for the last of the students to file out before his Professor spoke.

        "I guess I would be correct in assuming Sirius has been in touch with you?"

        Harry nodded.  "I got a letter from him this morning."

        "And you would like to know why I haven't told the class about the attacks,"

        "You went on the first day about wanting to be honest with us, and I just found out today that there have been attacks all week."

        Harry didn't mean to sound angry or upset, but he was.  That's why he found it difficult to keep the accusing tone out of his voice.  He thought that of all people Lupin would be the most honest with them.

"I wanted to tell them, Harry, believe me I did, but Dumbledore wants to speak with all Hogwarts professors before revealing anything to the students.  There's a staff meeting tonight to discuss how each grade should be told, and how – impossible as it may seem – to prevent panic from rising throughout the school.  By tomorrow night, every one will know about the attacks."

"What about the ministry?  Sirius said their trying to cover it up.  If they find out Dumbledore told us what really happened – "

"Don't you worry about Dumbledore, Harry.  He's had a lot of experience dealing with this sort of thing.  I'm sure he has already spoken with Corneilus Fudge and told him of his plans.  Fudge must realize the ministry will be a lot better off if people find out the truth now.  The public tends to be a lot less forgiving when they've been lied to for months.  People are irrational that way," Lupin said, smiling.

Harry wished he could make light of the situation like Lupin had just done, but he couldn't.  Maybe it was a trick one didn't learn until they became an adult.  He hoped he lived that long to find out.


	10. Scar Tissue

CHAPTER TEN:  Scar Tissue

        It wasn't the best Saturday for a trip to Hogsmeade.  The wind was picking up and a light drizzle had started to fall by the time they had reached the all-wizarding community.  

        The weather did not dampen Harry's spirits much though.  As much as he loved Hogwarts it was good to get away from it every once in awhile.  They'd been in school a month and this was the first weekend they'd had away from it.  Even Hermoine was enjoying the fresh, yet chilly air, and her good mood was probably what kept her and Ron from getting into another row when he mentioned he hadn't started his Transfiguration assignment that was due on Monday.  When she didn't pick a fight out of that, Ron's mood became cheerful as well.

        Ginny was with them, and Ron had not brought up the subject of her coming since that day in Lupin's class.  Whatever had been up his arse that day it seemed he had gotten over it.  

        They made their way through the small village, stopping by each of their favourite shops in turn.  Ron was going on about the new Quidditch supply store that had recently opened, when Hermione suggested, "why don't we split up then?  I'll go with Ron, and how about we meet up at the Three Broomsticks later?"

        "What are we splitting up for?" Ron protested, slightly confused.  "Harry wants to see the new Quidditch store too."

        And Harry did, but he had a feeling Hermione had an ulterior motive for splitting them up.

        "Harry has some early Christmas shopping he wants to get done," she said sending a meaningful look Harry's way.

        "Christmas is more than three bloody months away!" Ron exclaimed.

        "Don't swear," she chided him.  "And not everyone leaves their shopping til the day before," she said, raising her eyebrows at him.

        "Fine, have fun shopping, mate," he said, facing his friend.  "But you don't know what you're missing."

        With his arm around Hermione, the two of them left in the general direction of where the Quidditch store was located.

        "Well, that was odd," said Ginny when it was just the two of them standing there.

        Harry had to agree.  He was going to have a talk with Hermione when they got back if she was leaving them alone for the reasons he thought she was.  If that turned out to be the case Lavender and Pavarti were really starting to become a bad influence on her.  

        Ginny turned to him.  "Do you really have shopping to do?"  

        "Er, no," he answered.  

        "We can go to the Quidditch place if you want," she said with a shrug.  "I don't mind."

        "It's okay," he told her.  "I can see it another time.  Besides," he added with a grin, "I'm sure Ron will give me a fully detailed description of it when we meet up with them later, so it'll be like I was actually there."

        They started walking in the opposite directions as Ron and Hermione, passing by other students and shops.

"Where are we going?"  Harry asked.

        "How about we just walk for now?" She suggested.

        He nodded his agreement.  A walk sounded like a good idea, even though the rain had picked up a bit and the sky looked ready to unleash a storm at any moment.  

        "I've seen you in the library a lot."  He felt rather stupid after he said it.  It was probably the most boring conversation he could have started, but Ginny didn't seem to mind.  

        "I have this research project I'm working on," she explained.  "It's taking a lot of my time."

        It wouldn't be the last project that would occupy a lot of her time, Harry thought to himself.  In Transfiguration class alone last year, McGonagall had given them three assignments to do at once, claiming she was preparing them for next year.

        "How have you been sleeping?"  She asked carefully.

        "Fine," he answered, his feet splashing through a puddle.

        "You forget that I grew up with six older brothers.  I learned how to tell when they were lying pretty quickly."

        He wanted to snap at her that his dreams were none of her business, but she sounded genuinely concerned so he didn't.

        "I just have a lot going on in my head right now," he chose to say instead.

        "I'm here, you know, whenever you want to talk."

        Just like that she let the topic of his sleepless nights drop.  The way she didn't probe him made him want to tell her.  If anyone knew what it was like to have vivid nightmares it was her.  If anything, he should have been asking her how she got through it.  But the subject of it seemed so personal he couldn't bring himself to ask her.

        "I see you're just going lower and lower with the company you keep, Potter."

        Malfoy was exciting the shop they had just passed, his usual smug expression plastered to his face.  Crabbe and Goyle were beside him, arms folded over their chest, trying to look intimidating.  Maybe if they didn't look so oafish it would have had the desired effect.

Harry balled his hands into fists inside the pockets of his robes.  Why did Malfoy have to be there?  Harry knew without question Malfoy's plan was to ruin his Hogsmeade trip to the best of his abilities.  

         "You've traded down from the mudblood slut to the poor hand-me-down's girl."

        Harry knew he would be doing himself a favour if he just kept walking, but like Ron, he was so sick of having to deal with Malfoy's crap on a daily basis.  He had just done a better job of keeping his temper in check over the years.

        "Sod off, Malfoy.  Or is tormenting people the only hobby you have?" Harry said coolly.

        "Harry, let's go," Ginny said from his side.  "He's not worth it,"

        "You should be telling yourself that, little girl."

        It was far from the worst insult Harry had heard come out of the Slytherin's mouth over the years, but that didn't stop him from advancing on Malfoy and shoving him hard to the ground.  Crabbe and Goyle were so stunned they just stood there.

        "What the hell is your problem, Potter?"  Malfoy snarled at him.  He picked himself up, his robe soaked with mud and water, and started towards Harry, fists at the ready.  "I think it's time someone brought hero-boy down a few notches."

        Crabbe and Goyle had come out of their stunned state by that point.  Cracking their knuckles threateningly, they proceeded towards Harry from each side.

        Seeing what was in danger of happening, Ginny got in front of Harry and put her hands on his chest to push him back.  "This is stupid.  Don't do this.  You don't have anything to prove to him."

        "Letting your girlfriend fight your battles for you?" Malfoy mocked him.  "That's a change."

        Harry moved out of Ginny's grasp but instead of heading for Malfoy, he took off down the street at a lightning fast pace, ignoring the derisive laughter sounding from behind him.

        He felt Ginny grab his arm and pushed her off.  If he hadn't been so angry he would have apologized for shoving her so roughly.

        "Harry, stop!" she cried.

        "I'm doing what you asked," he said, keeping up his brisk pace.  "I'm walking away so I don't push his head through a window like he deserves."

        "You're acting like a child."

        That made him stop.  He came up so close to her that she could practically feel the heat radiating from him.  "You should have stayed out of it.  I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

        "Harry, if it wasn't for me you'd still be back there getting your face rearranged by those three!"  She shouted, not backing down.

        "I could have taken them," he insisted.

        "I thought that you had more commons sense then what you showed back there," she said with a frustrated air.  "But you really are just like every other guy once the testosterone kicks in."

        She could think what she wanted as far as he was concerned.  If she wanted to label him like that, he honestly didn't care.  Malfoy had pissed him off too much to care.  "I'm not going to apologize for shoving Malfoy and giving him a fraction of what he deserved.  Hermione should have let Ron pummel him that day in the bookstore, so he would be in a bloody body cast in St. Mungo's instead of here."

        Face livid with anger, Harry stalked off.  He couldn't stand to have Ginny stare at him in absolute disappointment a second longer.  He was already disappointed with himself enough for the both of them.

        The excitement that always accompanied the trips to Hogsmeade had long since worn off for Ginny.  The first two hours had been wonderful – then Malfoy had showed up and wrecked everything.  He had been as vile as always, and if his goal had been to ruin the Hogsmeade trip for her and Harry then he succeeded hands down.

        She had never seen Harry so full of rage that it frightened her more than she cared to admit.  She had dealt with Ron's temper on many occasions, but Harry's seemed to be a different one altogether, like it was years of pent up frustration finally breaking through.  She knew about his horrible childhood and everything that had been forced on him since then.  No one of any age should have to live with that kind of responsibility on their shoulders.  But Harry did, and he carried that weight around with him every day of his life.  Part of that was what had attracted her to him in the first place.  He was so noble and caring that she couldn't help but admire him.  But underneath all that selflessness and compassion, were scars – scars that were just beginning to break through.

        She had ended up at the Three Broomsticks alone hours later, hoping that Harry would already be there, but she had only found Ron and Hermione.  She had considered making up something, but in the end decided to tell them the truth knowing Malfoy had probably spent all afternoon telling anyone who would listen a severely exaggerated version of the events.

        Ron seemed happy that at least his best mate had gotten a chance to physically harm Malfoy, but the grin was wiped off his face when Hermione elbowed him in the side, telling him that it wasn't a laughing matter.  If Malfoy went to Snape Harry would be in serious trouble.

        When it was finally time to head back, the sky had cleared and the rain that had followed them all day had stopped.  Ginny found it funny that after the lousy Hogsmeade trip the weather was turning out nice.

        When they reached the castle, they found Harry sitting on the steps waiting for them.  Ginny could see he was a great deal calmer now, showing none of the fury he had displayed hours earlier.

        "You okay mate?"  Ron said to him.  "Malfoy's telling everyone you jumped him in a blind rage and that Crabbe and Goyle had to throw you off him.  Too bad that's not the real story – ow!"

        He rubbed his side where Hermione had elbowed him.  

        "Can you give us a minute?"  Harry said, standing up.

        It took a moment for Ron to realize he was talking about Ginny.

        "We'll see you inside," Hermione said, taking the initiative in walking up the stairs and bringing Ron with her.

        Harry waited until they were both gone before speaking.  He was staring at his shoes when he spoke.  "Before, I didn't mean to lose it like that," he began.  "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

        "I'll live," she said with a shrug.  She fought down the urge to shiver at remembering the almost violent matter in which Harry had shoved her away.

        He was ashamed of how he had acted, but he didn't know what else to say to make it any better.  He had ruined her Saturday for the sole satisfaction of seeing Malfoy's enraged face when he had pushed him to the ground.

        "It wasn't the Hogsmeade visit I had been hoping for," she said when it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything more.  "I mean the last half wasn't, but the first part of it was pretty good."

        So she had enjoyed herself after all – at least in the beginning, anyways.  He wanted to make it up to her.  He knew what he wanted to say.  He had rehearsed it for hours while sitting alone on the concrete stone stairs, but he couldn't seem to get passed saying her name.  Losing his nerve, he clamped his mouth shut.  He couldn't make an idiot of himself if he was silent.

        Ginny watched while he struggled to speak.  She knew she shouldn't find it so amusing that he was tongue-tied around her but she did – until he stopped trying to talk altogether and moved closer to her.  It was all she could do to keep her feet rooted in place when her brain wrapped itself around the idea that Harry Potter was about to kiss her.  Unconsciously, she licked her lips as he brought his face closer and closer to her.  He was so close she could feel his breath playing on her face – 

        The sound of conversation and laughter from half a dozen fourth years climbing the front steps interrupted the moment.  Harry pulled back at the last possible second, and pretended to fix his glasses on his face.  The younger students, not noticing what they had intruded upon, continued on their way up the stairs.  

        Harry's face had turned a light shade of pink.  Without meeting her eye, he cleared his throat, and said, "dinner's probably started."

        Feeling more than a little awkward in their current situation, Ginny decided going into the Great Hall could not have been a better suggestion.  It would be full of other people and she wouldn't have to worry about looking Harry in the eye. 

Keep the reviews coming!!!  I appreciate all comments and criticism.  Keep your fingers crossed for chapter 11 over the next few days.


	11. Best Of Intentions

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  Best of Intentions

It was not until well into October when Harry figured out why his normal seriousness or brooding behavior had been replaced by an almost constant cheerfulness he had not known he was capable of.  Hermione had been the first to notice the change and when she had asked him about it, he had simply replied it was because he was glad to be back home at Hogwarts.  At the time, it was what he had believed – even the impending threat of an attack by Voldemort managed to stay out of his thoughts during the day.  The nightmares were another story, but he could handle those – he had been living with them since he was eleven.

        Visiting the library on a Sunday was something Harry hated doing, having seen enough of the place during the week.  But the person he needed to see was far more important then following his usual Sunday morning routine.  

        When Hermione hadn't known where she was, he had the most embarrassing task of asking a group of Gryffindor sixth year girls where he would find Ginny Weasley.  In the midst of giggles and smiles they had managed to tell him she had left for the library a couple of hours earlier.  He could have saved himself the embarrassment and just checked there in the first place, since she seemed to be spending an awful lot of time there almost since the start of the school year.  

        Something had changed since that first Hogsmeade trip, and Harry wondered if she noticed it as much as he had.  He saw her just about the same amount of time as before, except now he found himself making excuses to sit with her in the common room or beside her during meal times.  Unlike in the past, he could pick her out in the crowd during Gryffindor's matches, clapping and cheering along with everyone else.  Things had become extremely _comfortable_ – that was the only way he could describe what was happening between them.

        People hadn't started to talk – _yet_, but Harry knew all they had to do was say one wrong thing in an openly public place and the entire school would jump all over him and Ginny.  He certainly didn't want any added publicity, and he was sure Ginny did not want to become the center of attention for all gossip surrounding Hogwarts.  He was having enough trouble sorting out his feelings without worrying about how the rest of Hogwarts would react. 

He had little difficulty in locating her in the library, with so few other students around.  She had a mountain of books piled on the table around her.  At the moment she was pouring over an immensely large and tattered looking one, completely oblivious to anyone around her.  She did not look up even when he was right in front of her.

        "You know, if you're trying to read this whole library before Hermione does, I think you started about six years too late," he said, grinning.

        Even though he had seemingly snuck up on her, she didn't appear very surprised.  "No one in the right mind would try that."

        He noticed how quickly she closed up the book she was reading and hid it behind a pile of textbooks to keep him from seeing what it was.

        He arched an eyebrow.  "Secret project?"  He found he was only half-teasing after he said it.

        "No, not really," she said dismissively.  "It's just some extra credit assignment for Potions."

        He seated himself across from her saying, "how come Snape was never that generous with our class?"

        "He can actually tolerate the Gryffindors in my year," she said sweetly.

        He didn't think the Potions Master was capable of tolerating anyone outside of his own House, but maybe that was just the impression he gave off because he acted like a slimy bastard to everyone else.

        "We're playing Ravenclaw today."

        It had become an almost natural thing for him to touch her in recent weeks that he found himself reaching across the table for her hand.

        "Sounds like it'll be a tough match," she said, running her fingers over his bare arm.

        "We're prepared," he told her.  "Are you coming to watch?"

        The smile vanished off her face.  "I can't," she answered, sliding her hand off his arm as she said it.  "I have to finish this by Monday."

        "That's okay," he said, trying not to let his disappointment show. 

        "I'm sorry, but I have to go and ask Madam Pomfrey some questions incase she's tied up with you later."  She added the last part in hopes that it would take his mind off the fact that she wasn't coming.  It seemed to have the desired effect.

        "I can't help that my body loves the hospital wing so much," he said, smiling at her.

        She gathered up the book she had been reading earlier and tucked it under her arm.  "Good luck against Ravenclaw."

        Before she could lose her nerve, she kissed his cheek, leaving the spot on his face where her lips had touched warm and tingling long after she had vacated the library.  

        Harry couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face all the way back to Gryffindor Tower.  He didn't care if he looked like an idiot to anyone he passed in the common room on the way up to the dormitory.  A simple kiss on the cheek had lifted his spirits to the point where he didn't even think Malfoy's derogatory comments could bring him down.

Ron was the only one in their dorm when he got up there, sitting on his bed, already dressed for the game.  There was only one thing Ron was never late for, and that was Quidditch.

        "Give me a minute and I'll be ready to go," Harry told him, pulling his uniform out of the closet.

        "How's Ginny?"

        Coming from anyone else it might have been simple curiousity, but from Ron, Ginny's self-proclaimed 'protector', the question meant much more.

        Unlike before, Harry had no trouble letting his smile disappear.  "She seemed all right.  She was in the library working on something for Snape."

        "You've been seeing a lot of her lately," Ron stated, standing up and folding his arms over his chest.

        "Is there anything wrong with that?"

        "Tell me what your intentions are and we'll see."

        Harry had secretly been dreading this conversation for a while now.  He was just glad it had taken Ron longer then he thought it would to broach the subject to him.  

        "I care about her, but anything beyond that is none of your business."  He matched Ron's stance, showing he had no intentions of being intimidated.

        "Who the hell do you think you are telling me something concerning my sister is none of my business?"

        "Ron, she's sixteen, okay?  She doesn't need you interfering – "

        "Of course I'm going to interfere when suddenly my best mate decides after six years to take an interest in her.  You barely even acknowledged her existence for her first two years here.  And then after that it was all Cho Chang until you two broke up late last year."

        Harry was finding it extremely difficult to resist the urge to punch Ron in the face – but he managed, just barely.  "Feelings change, Ron.  Not that I should have to explain any of that to you."

        "If I recall correctly you gave me a pretty lengthy lecture back in fifth year on what would happen to the remains of my body after you killed me if I ever did anything to hurt Hermione."

        "Is that what this is, a lecture?"

        "You can call it what you like," said Ron, "I'm just trying to look out for my sister."

        "She won't get hurt."

        Ron's features actually softened when he spoke next.  "You can't make a promise like that."

        Frustrated that there was no way he could win with Ron, he threw his hands up in the air, saying, "what else do you want me to say, then?"

        When Ron let his gaze fall to the window, looking silently down at the grounds outside, Harry knew the conversation was over.  He also knew they both needed some space from each other before the match started, so he grabbed his broomstick and Quidditch robes and made for the door.

        "Do you love her?"  Ron said to his retreating back.

        It was nearly a full minute before Harry turned around.  His hesitation should have been answer enough, but Ron was Ginny's brother and his best mate that Harry felt he had to say something – even if the answer would result in Gryffindor having to play without their Seeker.

"I don't know."

        He waited for Ron's reaction, but he just continued to stand there as if he hadn't heard Harry's words.  But Harry was positive he had heard every syllable.  He was just trying to process them before he figured out what punishment Harry deserved.

        He approached Harry in an almost predatory way.  Harry waited for the first punch.  He didn't want to fight, but he wasn't going to stand still and let Ron beat him into tomorrow.

        When Ron was mere inches away from him, he spoke in a deathly serious voice.  "Break her heart and I'll break you."

        Then he walked passed Harry and out of the dormitory.

        Harry left shortly after, Ron's words sticking in his head the entire walk down to the pitch.  

        After watching Ravenclaw play their first three games of the season, it wasn't hard to miss they weren't the same Quidditch Cup bound team they had been last year.  With Cho Chang and all three of their Chasers having graduated the previous year, they were seriously lacking when it came to experience.  Changes had been made and the empty positions were filled, and maybe if the Quidditch season started in May instead of October they would have been a bit better.  As it was, the only challenge to the game (which Gryffindor was winning seventy to twenty) was Harry having to find the golden snitch, which he was searching for at that very moment.

        He had gotten so used to playing against Cho, that it felt strange to look over and see someone else on a broom playing the position she had owned on Ravenclaw since her second year.  

        The bright side to playing against this new female seeker, Gloria Elliot, who he knew only from passing her in the halls, was he wouldn't feel guilty about being the first to catch the snitch.   

        He had broken into a dive for the fluttering object and had been chasing it for a full twenty seconds before the other Seeker had spotted him and joined in on the chase.

        A bludger flew in their direction and Harry veered off course to avoid having it smash into him.  The Ravenclaw Seeker had to do the same, but when Harry turned back around to find the Snitch it had disappeared.  That was normally what happened if you took your eye off it for more than a split second.  And he had definitely taken more than a second to correct his position thanks to the bludger.

        Seamus and Ron had each scored a goal by the time he had reached the top of the playing field to get a better look at his surroundings. 

        This time Harry was the one caught off guard when he heard the loud cheers of the crowd coming from the Ravenclaw side in the stands as their Seeker put on a burst of speed.

        Harry mentally swore at himself for not concentrating enough and took off after her.  His Firebolt was still as good as it had been in the days when he had first got it, allowing him to catch up to her with relative ease.  Sirius had offered to buy him a new broom many times over the years, but Harry had always refused.  He had a connection with this broom, and he planned to ride it until it was nothing more then a few twigs.  

        His opponent was more than a little stunned – and looked even a bit panicked – at how fast Harry had caught up with her.

        The two of them kept up their pursuit of the Snitch for the second time that game.  Harry hoped that no bludgers would be sent their way this time because he really wanted to end the game.  They had just barely scraped passed Hufflepuff last week, which had allowed Slytherin to slip back into first place.  They needed almost a landslide win against Ravenclaw before Slytherin got too far ahead.

        Harry tried edging as much speed as he could out his broom.  It was vibrating harder then ever now, but he kept on pushing his Firebolt passed the point where it was safe.

        The snitch continued in a straight line across the field, taking the two seekers directly through where a section of the play was currently happening.  Doing his best to keep one eye on the players he was about to pass, and one eye on the snitch, Harry raced by them.

        The Ravenclaw Seeker had not been so fortunate as her broom had caught the side of one of her own teammate's broom and she lost momentum.  Harry didn't waste the lead he had been given.  He quickly ended the game by going full out and wrapping his hand around the struggling object.

        The Gryffindor's packed in the stands cheered and clapped, waving their House pennants proudly through the air.  Amongst the celebrating crowd, Harry managed to land his broom before the rest of his team – including Ron – crowded around to congratulate him.  He seemed to have gotten over their earlier conversation or was too happy with the win to show any animosity towards Harry at that particular moment

        Harry spotted Cho in the stands, looking a little defeated that her old team had lost, but she was clapping for Gryffindor all the same.  She smiled down at Harry before he was dragged away by the victorious Gryffindor team.

        They didn't bother with dinner in the Great Hall.  Dean, Seamus, and a group of sixth years had gotten enough food for a feast from the house elves down in the kitchen.  Somehow they had also acquired several dozens of butterbeer – no one bothered asking how they managed to get their hands on that much butterbeer because of all the times Fred and George had done the same when they had still been at Hogwarts.

        There was never just an ordinary win for Harry's team.  Almost every victory was followed by a celebration of some sort, and though Harry did not always find it necessary it was a good way to relax after a hard fought game.  

        Harry was halfway through his meal when he saw the portrait hole open and Ginny walk inside carrying the same book he had seen her reading earlier in the library.

        She grinned when she saw him  "I guess congratulations would be in order."

        "How can you tell?"

        She took a look at the celebrations going on around them before whispering in Harry's ear, "do you want to go upstairs?  There's something I need to show you."

        He found it odd that she couldn't show him whatever it was in the common room where everyone else was, but he didn't let that stop him from following her upstairs.  It was only when they got to the landing for the sixth year's dorm, that he realized he was about to enter the girl's room with just Ginny.

        Ginny, noticing his obvious discomfort, said, "you can come in Harry.  You wouldn't be the first boy in our dorm."

        That probably would have made him feel better if he hadn't been so nervous.  There was almost complete silence where they were.  The noise from the common room was greatly reduced up there.

        "Come over here.  I want to show you this."

        She was beckoning to her bed, and Harry slowly made his way over there, all the while wondering what would happen if Ron came upstairs and found him sitting alone with his sister on her bed…

        When he was sitting, Ginny shoved the book she had been carrying into his hands.

        "_When Good Dreams Turn Bad_," he read off the title.  "Uh, thanks."

        Did she want him to read this so he could figure out why he dreamt about the things he did?  That sounded like something Professor Trelawney would want him to do.  He didn't need a book to tell him answers he already knew.

        "You have to open it," she said, getting impatient.  "Turn to page three hundred and four."

        He did as he was told.  When he came to it he read the title on the page: _The Purging of Nightmares_.  He skimmed through the paragraphs that explained which part of the brain triggered nightmares, but read more carefully what a successful spell required.  At the bottom, the potion ingredients were listed.  He recognized the names of only about half and pondered over other ones he had never even heard of but sounded rather horrible.

        "Well?"  Ginny prompted.  "What do you think?  It took me forever to find the right book in the library – "

        "This is why you've been spending all that time there?"  He asked, looking up.

        "Well I couldn't very well take most of them back to the common room because they came from the restricted section," she said matter-of-factly.  "I had the worse time trying to convince Madam Pomfrey to write me a note so I could get them since their medical books.  I had to tell her I was interested in becoming a med-witch and wanted to do some research."

        "Why didn't you tell me that you were doing this?"

        "Because I didn't know if it would work.  Some of the stuff in there is very advanced, and I couldn't just use a regular sleeping potion either because a lot of people can get addicted to that.  But I really think this will work."

        "I don't want you doing it," he said, handing the book to her.

        "Harry, did you even read it?  I can make you a potion that will keep your nightmares from surfacing."

        "Did _you_ read it?  Because if you did you would know this is way too dangerous and more complicated then any potion you or any other student at Hogwarts has ever made."

         "I don't believe this," she said, shaking her head.  She let her frustration at his refusal show in her voice.  "I just want to help and you're telling me that I can't, even though this would work."

        "I don't want you messing with these spells because of me, okay?  You've never had any practice with this.  Even a trained med-wizard would have trouble with this.  If it's really not that dangerous how come people don't use it all the time?"

        "Harry, if you just give me a ch – "

        "Leave this alone, Ginny," he said, getting up from her bed.  "I've handled my dreams fine for years.  I don't need you messing around with my head because you think you've come up with a solution."

        As he left her room, he didn't care about his earlier words to Ron about not hurting her.  From his perspective, it was better he do it now to keep her from doing it to herself later on.


	12. Freedom To Choose

CHAPTER TWELVE:  Freedom To Choose

        Harry almost welcomed being awakened at five thirty on Monday morning.  He hadn't slept well all weekend – and for once it had nothing to do with nightmares.  Going to Lupin's class meant he could work out some of the frustrations that had been building inside him since Saturday evening.  

        He and his roommates dressed in their usual silence, most opening their eyes just enough to see what shoe went on which foot, before trudging down to the common room.  

        "I swear I'll never get used to this," Ron complained, while he dragged each foot down the stairs.

Hermione, who was already dressed and waiting for them, heard Ron's grumbling and said back to him, "you should be thanking Professor Lupin that he doesn't make us do this every day."

        "Can you two not start this early in the morning?"  Harry snapped before Ron could retort back.

        They both looked stunned at his outburst, but refrained from commenting on it, when it looked like he was in no mood to talk about it.

        He was being unfair, biting their heads off like that.  It probably wouldn't have amounted to an argument, but he couldn't deal with their bickering on that particular day.  That was why he walked alone to Lupin's class.  They would know something was bothering him, but the way he saw it, if they were not around, they had no way to ask him about it.

        It was normally quite chilly outside that early into the day, and that morning was no exception.  The students hugged their cloaks tighter around themselves – for all the good it did.  As soon as they were out on the grounds, they removed them and broke into what had become the customary routine of pairing off and beginning the warm up exercises Lupin had shown them.  They were supposed to start off by casting a defense charm around themselves.   _Contego Defendo_ was the defense bubble they had been practicing with since the start of the term.  It had been quite difficult to master in the beginning, but most now were able to block at least a rudimentary attack.  The invisible bubble was supposed to prevent them from doing any serious harm to each other, but that did not mean Ron felt the unrelenting attacks being thrown by Harry any less.

        "Bloody hell, Harry," Ron groaned, from where he lay sprawled on his back after being hit by one of Harry's curse.  "Are you trying to break my defense barriers?"

        "If you can't handle my attacks – "

        "I didn't say that," Ron huffed, pulling himself to his feet.  "I just wish you had told me we were playing to injure."

        "Ron, can you work with Neville for a bit?"  Hermione cut in, sensing a fight in the works.

        "Harry and _I_ are practicing here," he said, picking up his fallen wand.

        "Ron, I need to talk to Harry, can you please partner up with Neville?  Just for a little bit?"  Her voice was more urgent this time.

        "Fine," he caved, "just watch he doesn't try to take your head off," he said to her, shooting Harry a dirty look.

        Ron and Neville moved farther down the grounds away from Harry and Hermione.

        Most of Harry's anger had ebbed away at that point as he stood staring at his new partner.

        "Well?  What are you waiting for?"  She said, holding out her wand and placing her feet in a fighting stance.

        At her request, Harry began.  He had never sparred with Hermione before so he wasn't sure how much to press his attacks, until he found that she was blocking most of what he threw at her with ease.  She even managed to throw a few curses that sent him stumbling back.

        By the time their warm up exercises were completed Lupin had arrived, and instructed them to put away their wands and come pick up a sword to continue with their weapons training.

        As with the other times when they had handled the weapons, a charm had been cast on each sword because when Harry had initially picked his up it had been way too light.  But after holding it in his hand, the sword had conformed itself to a suitable weight for him.

        "You didn't have to separate us," Harry said, lunging forward with his sword pointed out.  "I wasn't going to hurt him."

        Hermione batted his blade aside, and Harry noticed it was not without some difficulty.  

        "It sure didn't look like that from where I was standing."

        Harry made no reply, stepping back to block one of her thrusts.

        "I don't want you going easy one me, Harry," she said between parries.  "I've seen you fight harder with Ron."

        He would have told her that he wasn't, but he was too preoccupied with blocking her next series of attacks.  She wasn't nearly as strong as Ron, but she was fast, which did not give him a lot of time to recover.

        "You're good," he complimented.

        They continued sparring, taking turns going on the offensive.  They were so deep in concentration, that it was several minutes before either one spoke again.

        "Maybe if you had told Ron what was on your mind, instead of taking it out on him, he wouldn't have thought you were trying to send him to the hospital wing."

        "And what would that be?"

        "Ginny,"

        Harry faltered, parrying when he should have thrusted, leaving himself vulnerable for an attack.  The red sparks emitting from his shield told him Hermione had just hit him in a vital spot and if it had been a real battle he would have been dead within seconds.

        "She meant well, Harry," Hermione continued.

        Green eyes blazing, he said, "if she meant well, why did she go behind my back to do it?  Because she knew it was dangerous and that I would never let her do it," he said, answering his own question.

        "I can't speak for Ginny," she said.  "but she asked me to give you this."

        She handed Harry a folded piece of parchment that he immediately stuck in his back pocket.

        "You will read it, won't you?"

        He shrugged, bringing up his sword to fight.

        "Harry, I don't mean to interfere – "

        "Then don't," he said, letting the irritation he was feeling finally show in his voice.  She was prying into matters that did not concern her.

        Hermione dropped the fighting stance and let the sword fall to her side.  "You're being a real prat, I hope you know that.  Ginny was only looking for a way to help and the way you threw it back in her face makes me wonder if you really care about her at all."

        Lupin called the class at that point, and Hermione walked off to return her sword without so much as a glance back at him.

        Unlike the rest of his classmates, Harry hung back.  Pulling out the folded paper from his pocket he read:

_Harry,_

_        Meet me by the lake at four o'clock._

_        Ginny_

Hermione was wrong.  He _did_ care.  And for that reason when he went down to the lake to meet Ginny, he planned on telling her he had no intention of going back on what he had said.

        The remainder of the day dragged on for Harry.  Amidst the pile of homework and assignments he had been given, he started talking to Ron again, who thankfully didn't seem to be harboring any resentment towards him from earlier that morning.  But he couldn't win Hermione back onto his side quite so easily.  If he said something or asked her a question she would answer him, but that would be the extent of their interaction.  Harry could tell from the expressions and gestures she sent his way that she was completely on Ginny's side.  Of course she was.  Hermione proved to be just as stubborn as Ron at times – sometimes worse – and Ginny could be the same way.  So the two most stubborn girls he had ever met were siding against him.  That was just great.

        However, Hermione did become a little friendlier towards him when she learned he had read the note and was going outside to meet her.  

        When four o'clock loomed near, Harry packed up his Divination homework and set off for outside, still trying to think of a way to convince Ginny that he could handle his nightmares without her help. 

        She was already there waiting for him when he arrived.  She was sitting beneath a large tree with its branches hanging over the water.  Since she was the one who asked him there, he waited for her to speak.  He did not have to wait long.

        "Don't think I asked you down here to apologize because 'I went behind your back,' as you put it," she said, turning her head so she was facing him.  

        "I'm not going to change my mind, Ginny," he said firmly.

        "I'm asking you to trust me, why can't you do that?"

        "Don't turn this into an issue of trust, because that's not what this is about.  It's about you endangering yourself so I can have a few extra peaceful hours of sleep."

        "The worst that can happen is the spell doesn't work.  Nothing will happen to me and you'll still be stuck with your nightmares."

        "I don't like it," he said, adamantly.  "Anything to do with sleeping potions requires years of training and – "

        "Madam Pomfrey's been helping me," she said suddenly.  "We haven't actually done one but I think I know enough to do one on my own."

        "I'm sorry, but my answer's still the same."

        Instead of looking defeated as she should have, he saw a look of determination plaster itself on her face.

        "You're forcing me to do this the hard way, Harry," she said, getting up from under the tree.  

        He watched as she reached around the side of the massive trunk and grab something – two something's actually – and they were swords.  She tossed one to Harry who caught it with little difficulty after weeks of grueling weapons training.

        "What's going on?"  

        "I'm going to show you I can take care of myself," she said, picking up her blade and advancing towards him.

        "Ginny, stop this.  I'm not going to fight you."  This was getting seriously out of hand.  If he didn't put a stop to this she was going to get herself hurt.

        "I've been practicing with Hermione, she's been showing me everything you've learned."

        The shock from learning that Hermione had been working with her, nearly made Harry forget to block when Ginny took a swing at him.  He backed away after her initial attack.  This was too dangerous.  With neither of them wearing shields they could seriously injure one another – or worse.

        He saw hesitation flash threw her eyes, and was hopeful that she had come to her senses and it would end now, but the moment passed and she charged him for a second time.  This time he was ready for it, quickly parrying before striking forward.

        "I know you can fight better then this Harry," she challenged.

        He kept his moves defensive until it got to the point where Ginny was going to seriously harm him if he did not fight back.  So he attacked her, being sure to keep his moves precise and clean, not wanting to trick her.  But those tactics could only carry him so far.  He went on the defensive again, and when he knocked her blade aside, he let up his attack, allowing her time to recover.  She took full advantage of this, using her free hand to catch him off guard, hitting him square in the gut.  With a sweeping motion of her leg while he was still off balance, she knocked him onto his back with a painful thud.

        "I told you I could look after myself," she said staring down at him.

        He was still trying to catch his breath when she started back towards the castle, leaving him lying there.

        Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower in a worse mood then when he had left.  His back ached and he was feeling more than a little humiliated about the incident down by the lake.  He spotted Hermione studying at the same table he had left an hour before.

        "Why didn't you tell me you were working with Ginny?"  He accused, trying to keep his voice from carrying across the room.

        "You never asked," she said as innocently as she could.  She watched as his frown deepened before adding, "she asked me not to."

        "Did you know what she was planning?"

        "I had some idea," she said, shrugging.

        Outraged, he said, "and you never thought you should tell me?"

        "I didn't tell you because this was something Ginny needed to do – and don't look at me that way, Harry.  She wanted to prove that you don't have to protect her, that she can take care of herself."

        "And she had to challenge me to a duel to tell me that?"

        She sighed.  "She really had no other choice.  It was the only way she felt you would listen.  Did you?"

        He thought about his aching back, but made no reply.

        "Harry, I know you want to keep her safe, but it's Ginny's life.  She has to make her own choices."

        "I don't want her to get hurt because of me."

        At that point it become clear to Hermione that they were no longer talking about the sleeping spell.  "Don't you think you should let her make that decision on her own?"

        "What if she makes the wrong one?"

        "It's still her choice, Harry.  Don't take that away from her."

        The way she said it told him Ginny would undoubtedly make the wrong one.

        When Wednesday rolled around, Ginny knew all she had to do was make it through her Transfiguration test and the remainder of the week would fly by.  But she still had a Potions lesson she needed to get through before that, and with Professor Snape it would hardly be an easier one.

        Walking out of her Dark Arts classroom, she was startled to see Harry walk out from the shadows, as if he had been waiting there for her all along.  Since the start of the summer she had gotten good at reading his facial expressions.  They alternated between dark and brooding and those moments that were occurring less and less often now when he would allow himself to relax completely, and let down the barriers he used to keep everyone at a distance.    But for all her intense studying of Harry, it could not tell what his purpose for being there at that very moment was.  He was keeping his emotions too carefully guarded.

        "I need to talk to you," he said, his face serious.

        He was going to have to do better then that.  Those words were the first he'd spoken to her in nearly two days. "I'll be late for class," she said briskly, and began walking away.

        "It'll only take a minute."

        His face still revealed nothing but he seemed in such desperate to speak with her, that she felt compelled to follow him into the empty classroom he was standing outside.  But for someone who had appeared in dire need to talk to her he sure was quiet. 

        "What do you want, Harry?"  She prompted him.  

        She watched his shoulders sag slightly, like he was about to say or do something against his better judgment.  "I want you to do it."

        His voice was so low it took several seconds for the words to register themselves in her mind.  "Really?"  She said, barely able to contain her own excitement.

        Nodding, he said, "yes," but before she could interrupt, he added, "I'm letting you do it because I trust you not to put yourself in any danger."

        "I won't. I promise."

        Where those words had meant nothing to him a few days earlier, he simply nodded his head again.

        "I'll get to work on it tonight," she said, her excitement showing fully now.  "It's going to work, Harry," she said, her voice full of confidence.

        "Even if it doesn't, that's okay too," he said, so she wouldn't get down on herself if it didn't work.

        She was too overwhelmed by the fact that he was actually letting her do it to even consider the possibility of it not working.  But as eager as she was, she quickly remembered she still had a Potions lesson to get to.  As much as she wanted to stay and mend things with Harry further, her schooling, unfortunately, would have to come first.

        "I really have to get to class now," she said, reluctantly.  

        "I should get going too," he said with equal reluctance.  "I'll see you at dinner then."

        It was very much like that afternoon returning from Hogsmeade, when he had moved to kiss her before stopping upon hearing the group of noisy fourth years coming up behind them.  Except now it was just the two of them in an empty classroom where no one could interrupt them as Harry's lips landed on hers.  It was gentle and passionate and more amazing then any first kiss Ginny could have imagined with him.  He let his hands fall to her waist, pulling her closer to him.  Without even meaning to do so, she let herself relax completely under his touch.  She had never kissed a boy before, and was worried about being sloppy or awkward, but she quickly found it went better if she didn't allow herself to think, and just let her lips guide themselves against Harry's, who seemed to know what he was doing.

When it felt right, they both pulled away, and she could see Harry was as much at a loss for what to say as she was, but kept his hands in place on her hips.

        "See you at dinner," she said softly and with some effort pulled herself away from him.

        She didn't need eyes in the back of her head to know he was staring at her as she walked away.  It took all the self-restraint she possessed not to look back.  

Even if she ended up with a month's worth of detention out of this, she had already decided it had definitely been more than worth it.


	13. Black And Blue

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:  BLACK AND BLUE

It wasn't for lack of trying, but Ginny couldn't seem to keep her mind on the lesson Hermione was giving her on how to quickly heal wounds with only a few, simple medicinal ingredients.  At Ginny's request, Hermione had offered what little free time she had to teach the younger girl what they were learning in Lupin's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and all Ginny seemed to do was let herself be distracted at every opportunity.  Being able to say that Harry Potter, the boy she had pined after for six, long years was finally hers, was something she was still getting used to – she couldn't help but let her mind wander about him, and the way he made her feel when his hands would –  

        "Ginny, are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?" she heard her friend say in an exasperated tone.

        "I'm sorry, my mind wandered for a second," said Ginny, her cheeks reddening just a little.

        "You were thinking about Harry."

        Ginny tried to look shocked at the accusation.  "I was not."

        "I've seen that look on Harry's face quite a few times in recent days," Hermione remarked, marking a page in one of her open books for future reference.  By doing so she missed seeing Ginny's face go even redder.

        Deciding it was time she started concentrating for real, Ginny pushed all thoughts of Harry and what a good kisser he was out of her head.  "Ok, teach away," she instructed Hermione, sitting up straighter in her chair.  "I'm ready to learn."

        "Until Harry pops into your head again?"  Hermione said in a teasing voice.

        All attempts at seriousness gone, Ginny fell back against her chair with a sigh.  "I'm pathetic, aren't I?"

        The older girl chuckled.  "You wouldn't be the first girl to lose her head over the opposite sex."

        "I know I'm going to regret asking this but was it like this for you and my brother?"

        "Ron and I are the last people you should be comparing your relationship to," Hermione told her.  "We're both too stubborn for our own good and we fight horribly about everything."

        "But you two always make up afterwards," Ginny pointed out.

        "True," Hermione agreed, and to Ginny's surprise closed her book.  "Besides, making up can have its benefits," she added, her cheeks flushing slightly.  

        Quickly forcing images of her brother and Hermione out of her head, she said, "you're right.  I'm already wishing I hadn't asked."

        "You'll understand when you and Harry have your first fight." 

        Ginny was surprised at how open Hermione was being with her.  Even spending almost all of the last two summers at The Burrow, the older girl had confided in her very little about anything regarding her relationship with Ron.  Ginny suspected it was either because Hermione didn't think she would want to know, being Ron's sister and all, or simply because hadn't wanted to rub in her face the fact that she had no boyfriend.

        "You planning on staying like this?"  Ginny indicated towards Hermione's hair and the bit of makeup she wore, wondering how many eyes she had opened since her 'image adjustment'.  She was still the same Hermione underneath, but where she had been lacking in the confidence department before, she had completely rectified that now.

        "I thought I would just keep it up until Ron apologized," she replied, "but then I got used to my hair like this, so I don't think I'll go back."

        "You know you've let Lavender and Pavarti corrupt you."

        "I haven't," she said firmly, but in a good-natured tone.   "The only way I would have been corrupted was if I let myself wear some of those outfits they picked out for me.  Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be ready to be that daring."

        Ginny giggled, thinking of the clothes the two fashion conscious Gryffindors had tried convincing her to wear.

        Shaking her head to clear it, Hermione said, "we better get to work so that this afternoon won't be a total waste."

        Ginny silently agreed.  These extra lessons with Hermione were helping her advance in her own classes.  She had a greater understanding of magical properties now, which aided her when she prepared her sleeping potion for Harry once a week.

        "Ginny, would you pass me _Broken Bones Healed in Under a Minute_?"

        Ginny complied, using both hands to pass the immensely thick book, which Hermione took from her – nearly letting it slam on the table when she gasped.

        "What happened to your arm?"  Hermione squealed in alarm, seeing the massive black and blue bruises on her forearms.

        "Happened in Lupin's class," she answered casually, and quickly lowering the sleeves on her robes to hide the marks.  "I didn't block the hex in time and I was thrown backwards.  I must have hit my arms on the floor harder then I thought."

        "That must have been some hex," Hermione commented.  She had seen accidents in Dark Arts classes before, but nothing to the extent of Ginny's injuries.  She was thinking that the younger Gryffindor should have gone to the hospital wing to get them healed, when Ginny started packing up her school things.

        "I better go," Ginny said, looking at the clock on the wall.  "I told Harry I'd meet him after practice."  Seeing the disapproving frown forming on her friend's face, she added, "I know this stuff is important, and I promise we'll work on it this weekend – with no interruptions from any boys."

        She didn't bother waiting for Hermione's response.  She knew undoubtedly it would be somewhere along the lines of school should take top priority over everything.  For Ginny though, her priority at that very moment was getting away from Hermione's prying eyes, which hadn't left her arms since seeing the marks there.

        She surprised Harry in the locker room when she was sure it was just him in there.  That didn't mean her heart wasn't beating furiously when she walked in because there was always the off chance she had miscalculated and there would be someone else in there with him.  Luckily for her it turned out that he was completely alone.  He stood by his open locker, throwing a sweater over his head.  She couldn't mask the sound of her footsteps though, but neither did she give him a chance to voice his obvious surprise at seeing her.

        "I just thought I'd stop by and say hi," she said, wrapping her fingers around the nape of his neck and kissing him.

        His hands wrapped themselves around her waist as he kissed her in return.  "You should do this more often," He said between kisses.  He let his hands roam up her back, until he felt her flinch under his touch.  Concerned, he let go of her.  "Are you all right?  Did I hurt you?"

        A large part of her was burning to tell him the truth, but the other half was screaming at her not to mess up the perfect state her life had fallen in to.  In the end, the latter part won out.  "I just had a little accident in Dark Arts class this week.  Some bumps and bruises, nothing serious," she added, watching as his features deepen with concern for her.

        "Did you tell Lupin?"

        "I told him I was fine, which I am – so stop worrying."

        He seemed to take her word for it because he started kissing her again – but it was gentler this time, as if he were worried about causing her more injuries.

        She pulled back just enough so she could speak.  "How are you sleeping?"  

        "Fantastic," he murmured and began leaving a trail of kisses down her neck.  "I think I've slept better these past few weeks then I have since starting Hogwarts.  Thank you," he said, pulling back, his emerald gaze burning into hers.

        That look sent shivers down her spine – but the good kind.  Sometimes it scared her the way Harry could stir up these intense emotions inside her.  She wondered if she did the same to him.  Harry was a very intense person already.

And Hermione was worried about where her priorities lie.  Her top priority was helping Harry – and she was doing it in more ways then one.

        "What are you doing on Saturday?"  He asked her, his hands resting on her waist.

        She was going to say nothing when she remembered her earlier promise to Hermione.  "I was supposed to have Hermione teach me a chapter on medicinal charms this weekend."

        "But that doesn't have to be Saturday morning, does it?"

        "Just what did you have in mind?"  She asked, watching his face for any clues.  Whatever he was planning though, he was keeping it well hidden.

        "I thought we could go in to Hogsmeade."

        "I hadn't realized it was a Hogsmeade weekend."

        "That's because it's not, but that doesn't mean we still can't go," he said, suggestively.

        Raising her eyebrows, she said, "are you suggesting we sneak out?"

        "Yes I am," he answered, grinning.  "We could use my dad's cloak and the Marauder's Map."

        "What about Ron and Hermione?"

        "I don't think we should tell them.  That way they can't get in trouble if they don't know where we are."

        "I'm going to have to tell Hermione something."  Ginny was sure whatever excuse she gave would not go over well with the older girl.  Hermione was already on her case about her lack of focus recently.  As much as she disliked the thought of lying to Hermione, this was their first chance to do something as a couple – and their first time back there together since that disaster of a Hogsmeade visit in September.  It was too good of an opportunity to pass up, especially when Harry had been the one to suggest it.  

        "I've been thinking that maybe it's time we told Ron about us," Ginny said to him.  "He already suspects, but I think he would appreciate us telling him ourselves."

        The thought of telling her brother about their relationship sounded even less appealing than lying to Hermione.  But Ginny was starting to feel they should just get it over with.  Ron was entitled to his opinion, but that would be it.  Her brother did not get to choose who she could or could not go out with.

        "Should we tell him together?"  Harry said, clearly he was not any happier about the idea.

        "I thought it might go over better if you tell him yourself, since he is your best friend." 

        Harry cringed at the thought of having to confront Ron about his 'changing' relationship with his sister.  It wasn't as if he was afraid of Ron, but he knew exactly what his best friend's reaction would be.  It would certainly not be wishing his sister and Harry all the best.

        She could see he was not fond of the thought of telling Ron on his own, so she said, "we could do it together then, if you want."

        As much as he wanted to say yes to that, he knew confronting Ron was something he had to do himself.  Seven years of friendship could not be erased simply because he had started dating liitle his sister, could it?

        "Don't worry, I can handle Ron," Harry said confidently.  He decided then it would probably be best to tell him in a public place – one with lots of witnesses.

        It was late when Ginny finally slipped inside her room to get ready for bed.  Most of her roommates were asleep, and the ones that were still up were in the common room trying to do some last minute cramming for their Astronomy quiz tomorrow.

        While she undressed for bed, she nearly let out a gasp similar to Hermione's when she saw the reflection of her bare back in the mirror.  Even with the room bathed in near darkness, the deep cuts and bruises on her back were clearly visible.  She winced just looking at them.  No wonder it had hurt when Harry had touched her there.

        "Those look awfully painful, dear," said her mirror.  "You should head down to the hospital wing and have them looked at."

        Throwing her nightgown over her head, she responded, "they're really not that bad."

        Her mirror gave a tutting noise of disapproval but said nothing further.

        It was the worst they had ever been, but Ginny knew when she woke up tomorrow morning they would have already started to fade – unless Harry had another night plagued with violent nightmares.

        Opening the drawer on her nightstand, she pulled out a vial filled with the same dark liquid she had given Harry to drink before he went to bed each night.  Like every other time, it cooled her throat as she swallowed, leaving no bitter aftertaste in her mouth.  Then she crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to overtake her, and hoping Harry would have a peaceful night.

        It was midmorning when Hermione made the trek down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  Sometimes on Saturday's she would still go down early, simply enjoying one of the few meals she got to eat in relative silence.  But on that particular morning she didn't feel like eating alone, and waited until a decent time where she figured either Ron or Harry would be up.  

        When she reached the Gryffindor table she more than a little surprised to find Ron, but no Harry.  Ron was rarely ever the first of the three to make it downstairs.  

        A few seats away from Ron sat Ginny.  Before the youngest Weasley could catch her staring, Hermione tore her gaze away and busied herself with pouring a glass of orange juice.  She knew she shouldn't be, but she was still troubled by the marks she had seen on Ginny's arms.  She had no reason to think her friend was lying, but she couldn't shake the suspicion that those bruises hadn't been the result of an accident in Lupin's class.  Even if they had, she knew Professor Lupin would have sent her to the hospital wing right away to get them healed.

        "Something wrong?"  She heard Ron's voice say to her.

        Drawing herself away from her thoughts she responded by saying, "just a little tired."  There was no reason to alarm him when she was probably overreacting.  Still, the logical part of her brain kept thinking the only reason Ginny wouldn't have let Madame Pomfrey look at them was if she had something to hide.  But just what was she hiding?  Wanting to ensure that she wasn't over exaggerating what she had seen, she said, "Ginny, could you pass me that plate of muffins?"

        The younger girl complied, and Hermione made her stretch a little further then necessary – just to the point where the sleeves on her robes pushed back – before taking the plate off her hands.  In plain sight, she could see the skin that had been covered in purple and blue welts yesterday looked completely healed.

        "Thanks," Hermione managed to say, taking one off the plate before setting it down beside her.  

        It was impossible.  She knew she hadn't imagined seeing the marks – Ginny had even admitted to them.  Something wasn't quite right, Hermione was sure of that now.  Marks like that don't vanish over night.  Even if she had taken a healing potion the bruises would have faded, but they still would have been noticeable.  

        Ginny was all too aware of the questioning look Hermione was giving her and quickly turned away.  If she wasn't careful, Hermione was going to figure out exactly what she was doing.  And the moment she did, she would undoubtedly run to Harry and ruin everything Ginny had been working so hard to accomplish. 

        "You sure you're all right?"  Ron asked, this time his voice etched with concern.

        She was saved from having to think up another excuse when Harry dropped down onto the bench beside him.  "Morning," he greeted them in a cheery voice.

        Hermione almost laughed.  She never thought she would see the day where Harry would show up at meal times in a suspiciously good mood on an almost regular basis.  Hermione knew who she had to thank for that, letting go for the moment the issue of Ginny's mysterious healing abilities.

        All week Harry had put off talking to Ron about his relationship with Ginny.  Excuses and distractions kept popping up, and the fact that he was feeling like too much of a coward to say anything.  He could feel Ginny's eyes on him then, but he chose to avoid looking at her.  She had gotten so fed up with him avoiding telling Ron she had demanded he tell him before they left for Hogsmeade or else there would be no trip.  Given that ultimatum he felt he really had no choice but to tell Ron.  If he put it off any longer Ginny would probably stop talking to him altogether.  She obviously didn't realize how ugly things could get, or had taken into consideration the fact that he had to share a room with her brother for another eight months.

        Ron had been watching Harry sit there with an empty plate in front of him, and said, "you going to eat anything, mate?"

        "I'm not really all that hungry," Harry told him.  He felt much like he did before a Quidditch match – just the sight of food was making him queasy.

        Shaking his head, Ron bit into a piece of bacon.  "What's going on that I don't know about?  You're not eating and Hermione's being all secretive."

        "Don't talk with your mouth full," she scolded, " and I'm _not_ being secretive."

        Harry knew why the thought of eating was making him nauseous but he wondered what was on Hermione's mind.  He raised a questioning eyebrow at her but she just shot him a look back that said 'Ron's overreacting.  I'm fine.'

        If he hadn't been so preoccupied with his own dilemma he probably would have dwelt on it further.  He managed to summon the same courage he had used to face Voldemort many times in the past, and turned to his best friend.  "Ron, I needed to talk to you about something."

        "I'm listening," he responded, still eating.

        Harry thought it best he not have anything in his mouth when he told him in case he choked.  "It's important."

        This time he had Ron's full attention.  Swallowing the remainder of food in his mouth, he gave Harry a curious look.  "Go on, I'm listening."

        He was starting to wonder why he had insisted he could do this himself.  He thought about looking over at Ginny for support, but stopped himself when he concluded it might give too much away.  He decided the best thing to do was jump right in before he lost his nerve.  "Ginny and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks now," he said in a low enough voice, hoping to keep the rest of the table from listening in.

        He could see the muscles in Ron's jaw clench, but he stayed silent.  Harry quickly glanced at Hermione, but she was reading her copy of the _Daily Prophet_, pretending not to listen in.

        "She's my girlfriend," Harry added in a moment later.  He examined Ron's expression carefully, looking for any sign that meant he was in physical danger.

        Ron turned back to his breakfast, but didn't eat anything.  "I suspected as much.  I was starting to wonder when you were going to get around to telling me."

        He didn't seem happy, but he didn't seem angry either.  "You're okay with it then?"  He wanted to make sure of that.  He didn't want his friendship with Ron to suffer in any way.

        "As long as you don't give me a reason not to be, I'm fine with you and my sister in a relationship together."

        Harry was having trouble believing his own ears.  This was a far different Ron, who a month ago had threatened to break him in two if he stepped out of line with Ginny.  If he didn't know better he'd say someone had taken a Polyjuice potion to look like his best friend.

        "I'll see you up in the common room," said Ron after having drained the last of his orange juice.

        After Ron's departure, Harry looked over at Hermione, who was still immersed in her newspaper, and said,  "you can stop pretending you weren't listening to every word we said."

        She gave him a sheepish grin, but said, "it really was an interesting article."

        "I'll bet it was.  What's wrong with him?"  He asked her.  "Did you put some sort of spell on him so he wouldn't take his wand out on me?"

        "Magic had nothing to do with it, Harry.  He hasn't seen you this happy in a long time, and if being with Ginny is what makes you happy he's willing to accept that."

        Hermione's words made him realize how desperately he had wanted Ron's approval.  And now that he had it, the first hurdle in his relationship with Ginny had been overcome. Though he had the sneaking suspicion Ron had not come to this revelation on his own.

        "You talked to him, didn't you?"

        She merely shrugged and started reading her paper again, evading any further questions.  

It was clear to Harry then that Hermione was not an innocent bystander by any means.  But where he had been angry with her for interfering with him and Ginny earlier on, he was glad she had stepped in this time.  Whatever she had said to Ron, he knew he owed her an extra special Christmas gift that year.


	14. Hogsmeade Trip For Two

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Hogsmeade Trip For Two 

        With Ron's 'blessing' they both felt a lot better about their trip to Hogsmeade.  But even that didn't make sneaking away any easier - though Ginny did not have as big of a problem hiding from Ron and Hermione as Harry did.  The best excuse he had been able to come up with was that he was locking himself in a room somewhere in the school to get started on his Transfiguration mid-term project.  Not entirely believable, but it was the best he could do.  When Harry was sure his friends had bought the excuse, he left Gryffindor Tower with his school bag slung over his shoulder – the invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map safely tucked inside.  

        Harry went by the library first to get Ginny.  She had been there since breakfast, waiting for him.  They hadn't wanted to make it too obvious by having them both leaving Gryffindor Tower at the same time.  

        The invisibility cloak was just an added precaution incase for some reason they couldn't take the secret tunnel back to Hogwarts.  He pulled out the Marauder's Map from his bag, checking to see if anyone was in the near vicinity before he opened the doorway to the secret tunnel.  

        "I still can't believe how long Fred and George were able to keep this tunnel a secret," Ginny said as they stepped in.

        "It's a good thing they did, otherwise I would have missed out on a quite a few Hogsmeade trips."

        When they made it to the cellar of the infamous Honeydukes, Harry made sure there was no one around before stepping out in to the open.  He hurried up the concrete steps with Ginny, and ever so quietly opened the cellar door.

        It was not as easy to sneak out unnoticed without there being a real Hogsmeade trip scheduled.  There were mostly younger children with their parents, and it was not nearly as busy or crowded during a regular Hogsmeade weekend.  It helped that they weren't wearing their Hogwarts uniforms, which allowed them to look a lot less inconspicuous as they slipped out the shop door. 

        When they were out on the main street, Harry slipped his hand through hers, asking, "what do you want to do first?"  

        "How about we drop by the Three Broomsticks and grab a butterbeer," she suggested.  "It was freezing in that tunnel."

        Once again they had to be careful when they entered the Three Broomsticks, in case any teachers were present.  Harry hadn't considered that possibility ahead of time, but fortunately for them no Hogwarts professors were inside.

        They chose an out of the way booth secluded in a corner, where they would be paid the least attention.   Just because Harry had not seen anyone he recognized did not mean there was no one who recognized him.  

        Madame Rosmertta came by shortly after they were seated.  She raised a slight eyebrow at Harry and Ginny before heading back to head kitchen with their orders.

        "I'm really glad my brother's finally decided to grow up," Ginny said, with some relief.  "But I still can't believe how calm he was about it."

        "I guess he trusts us," said Harry.  He didn't bother mentioning Hermione had a hand in Ron's miraculous change of heart.  Even so, he found it kind of embarrassing to admit out loud that Ron was happy for them, even if it was what he had been hoping for all along.

        "Have you thought about what you're going to do after you graduate?"  She asked, when Madame Rosmertta returned with their butterbeers.

        That was another startling reality – graduation.  It was less than eight months away.  He had always been too caught up on just making sure he was alive when he finished school that he had never given much thought to life after Hogwarts.

        "I suppose a posting of some sort at the Ministry," he said after some thought.  He didn't think it was necessary to add that he wasn't even sure if there would be a Ministry building left after graduation.  "I thought about being an Auror, but I don't think my marks are high enough for that.  Other then that I haven't really thought much about it.  I know I should, but I can't seem to think that far ahead.  Hermione's already had a dozen owls or more with job offers around England.  I think some of them were even from out of country."

        "Has she decided on anything yet?"

        Harry rolled his eyes and took a swig from his butterbeer.  "She wants to look at all her options before deciding on anything."  He wondered if he was able to keep the jealousy from surfacing in his voice.  If anyone deserved all the opportunities in the wizarding world it was Hermione, but that didn't stop him from feeling a bit envious because she had the luxury of figuring out what the path she wanted her life to take.

"Sounds like Hermione has her whole future planned out," noted Ginny.

        "The problem with plans is they hardly ever work out," he told her, his voice taking on an edge.  "At least in my experience."

        "You could play Quidditch."

        "Playing on a professional team is a lot different from playing on a school team."

        "Harry, I've seen the scouts that have come to the Gryffindor games, and I know you have too.  Why won't you let yourself believe that you're good enough?"

        He didn't have an answer for her.  He wasn't sure why it scared him to think of Quidditch as a career.  Perhaps it was because Quidditch was the one thing that had kept him sane through the years, had helped him get through some very difficult times.  If he tried out for a team and didn't make it, how would he handle that rejection? He felt Ginny gently squeezing his hand and it dragged him away from his thoughts.

Her eyes trained on his, she said, "when all this is over, Harry, you are going to have to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life.  It can't hurt to start thinking about it now, can it?"

        How was he supposed to tell her he was afraid to think that far ahead?  That he could never allow himself to spend countless hours pondering what his life would be like in five years.  Because the reality was, he had to fight one more battle against the most feared Dark Wizard to ever walk the planet.  It would either be him or Voldemort that would come out alive in the end.  One would finally be defeated for good.  The less Harry dwelt on the future, the more time he had to focus on everything Lupin was teaching him, in hopes that it would keep him alive long enough to make sure Voldemort did not get to full power again.  He was going to tell Ginny all that, knowing that if anyone would understand his refusal to plan ahead it would be her, but before he had a chance to open his mouth a loud, resonating explosion rocked the entire building.  Sections of the old ceiling were falling down in huge chunks, chasing many of the patrons below their table for cover.

        Harry was on his feet, the sick feeling of dread he hadn't felt in weeks returning in full force.  He scanned for any sign of what was causing the destruction, but with most of the lighting knocked out by the blast visibility was extremely poor.  People were screaming and storming the door in mass panic.

        "Harry, wants happening?"  

        He could feel the panic in Ginny's voice.  He reached out to reassure her when a second blast knocked them off their feet.  Harry was thrown across several meters, landing hard on top of a crushed wooden table.  Groaning, he pushed himself up, tasting blood in his mouth.  He didn't have to be a medwizard to know the blood could be attributed to the massive throbbing he was feeling in his left temple.  He frantically searched for Ginny, relief flodding him when he saw her getting shakily to her feet a short distance away.  

The Three Broomsticks was suddenly flooded with light, as the wooden entrance door was blasted aside, taking out those who were rushing it in an attempt to get out.  Harry would have gladly taken the darkness over the three hooded figures in black cloaks standing in the doorway.  Death Eaters.  They were so fast that the wizards nearest them were dead before they could reach for their wands.

        Laughing mercilessly, one of the Death Eaters pointed its wand at the ceiling and shouted a spell Harry was unfamiliar with.  Random bolts of crackling energy shot out from the tip of its wand, destroying every part of the roof it touched.  Harry looked on in horror as one of the targets was the ceiling above Ginny's head.  Without so much as a single thought to his own safety, Harry threw himself at her, knocking her out of harm's way.

        There wasn't enough time for Harry to do the same for himself, though.  His only hope lie in using his wand and yelling _Contego Defendo_ tosummon a defense shield around himself.  But he wasn't quite fast enough, and instead of the debris bouncing off of him as it should have, he was buried beneath it.

"He's been out since they brought him here." 

        "How badly is he hurt?"

        "What was he doing at Hogsmeade in the first place?"

        Fighting his way back to consciousness, Harry was able to make out the last voice as Ron's.  Eyes still closed, he couldn't tell what Ron's expression was at learning he had not been locked in a classroom somewhere, working on Transfiguration.  His head was throbbing and he wondered how long he had been out for.  Gingerly, he opened his eyes, squinting at the bright sunlight that filled the room.

        Sirius was the first one to notice he was awake.  He looked to be exercising extreme restraint from throwing his arms around his godson and hugging him to death.  Hermione and Ron were there too, with Ginny between them.  Except for some small cuts and smudges of dirt on her face, she looked unharmed, and Harry was grateful to whatever higher being that had kept her safe.

"You had us all scared to death, Harry," said Sirius, unable to hide his relief any longer.  "How do you feel?"

        Harry tried to sit up, but when it became too painful, stayed lying down.  "Just a little sore," he lied.  They already all looked so concerned he didn't feel the need to add to their worries.  "How did I get back here?"

        "Ginny and some of the survivors from the Three Broomsticks helped dig you out," Sirius began.  Though he was relieved that Harry would be okay, his face was still pale.  "They contacted Dumbledore and he brought you back here.  Madame Pomfrey said your defensive shield was just strong enough to keep the debris from crushing you." 

        "What about the Death Eaters?"

        "The Ministry's been on alert for some time now.  They sent in the Auror's before too much damage could be caused.  But they only managed to catch a handful of them," Sirius finished bitterly.

Ignoring the pain in his head, Harry turned so he could look at Ginny, who was looking like she had spent the last few hours fearing for his life.  "Are you okay?"  He asked her, his voice dropping in volume.

She nodded, and placed a reassuring hand on his arm instead of speaking.

"What were you doing in Hogsmeade, Harry?"  Ron asked.

"I've been wondering that same thing myself," Sirius said before Harry could come up with a response.

"I needed to pick up a few things and I brought Ginny along," he explained.  He prayed Ginny hadn't told them anything different.

"And you decided to go without telling anyone?"

His godfather's concern was gone now.  It was replaced by anger and disappointment.

"It wasn't a big deal," he said, and wished he could take back the words as soon as he finished saying them.

"No big deal?  You almost got yourself killed, Harry.  I thought you had a little more sense then that," Sirius said angrily.

He didn't want to have it out with Sirius in front of his friends, especially when his godfather was insisting on talking to him like he was an irresponsible teenager, instead of someone who had spent his entire life taking care of himself.  Sirius must have been thinking along the same lines because he asked them all to leave.  Harry didn't look at any of them as he left, especially Ginny.  He didn't want to get her in anymore trouble.

"What were you thinking?"  Sirius said when the others were gone.  "How could you just sneak off like that?"  

Despite the aching in his body Harry managed to raise his voice enough to shout, "you're the one who told me I should lighten up and have a bit of fun." 

"When I said fun I didn't mean doing something foolish like putting your life in danger," Sirius said, raising his voice to match Harry's.  "You don't know the hell I went through when Dumbledore contacted me and said you were badly injured in a Death Eater attack."

Harry turned his head to the side, refusing to look at Sirius.  He had never wanted to put Sirius through that, but all he had wanted was to have one normal afternoon away from everything that reminded him of what was to come.  But Sirius would never understand that.  He was too wrapped up in wanting to keep his godson safe.

"You endangered Ginny Weasley's life."

"I saved her," Harry shot back, managing to sit up a little.

"Only after you put her at risk," Sirius countered.  He paused briefly before asking.  "What does she mean to you?"

"We're close," he answered, not wanting to imply anything more because he didn't think he liked where Sirius was going with this.

"Ron tells me you're quite a bit more then that."

"No offense, Sirius, but whatever relationship I have with Ginny is none of your business."

"It does concern me if you're putting your life on the line for her."

"And I would do it again in a heartbeat," Harry said defiantly.  

Sirius ran a hand through his shaggy, dark hair.  "Harry, nobody more than me wants to see you happy, but I think you're losing sight of what's important here."

It was at that moment Harry completely lost his temper.  "I haven't forgotten what's coming, Sirius.  Every minute I'm in school is spent teaching me things that will hopefully save my life and everyone around me when Voldemort attacks.  I've known what my priorities are for the last seven years.  I'm responsible for making sure every one I love is safe and protected.  I didn't ask for any of this, but I wasn't given a choice if I wanted to be a hero or not.  I know I have a job to do and I'll do it."

"The burden is not yours alone to bear, Harry," came the voice of the Headmaster who had come to stand by Harry's side of the bed.  "Sirius, would you be kind enough to give us a moment alone?"

Sirius didn't look like he wanted to, but he heeded to Dumbledore's request and left the hospital wing.

Looking Harry over, Dumbledore said, "you look tremendously better then when I last saw you."

Harry was lost for a moment when he looked at Dumbledore.  He was suddenly looking a lot older to Harry then he had at the beginning of the school year feast.  He knew Dumbledore was getting on in years, but in the past he had somehow always managed to appear younger then he really was. 

"Sir, if you're going to lecture me Sirius already took care of that."

"Then that makes my job a lot easier," said the Headmaster.  "I know why you did what you did, Harry.  We all feel the need to get a away on certain occasions, I only wished you had gone about doing so in a different way."

Harry hadn't felt ashamed about sneaking out before, but now as he lay there listening to Dumbledore, guilt about making everyone panic was starting to set in.  "I didn't mean for this happen," he said, as if that would change anything.

"I know you didn't, Harry," Dumbledore said, his tone understanding, "but you should also know you are not responsible for anyone but yourself.  I know you see it as your duty to protect everyone around you, but you mustn't.  I'm not saying you can't look out for them – nor would I even ask you not to knowing the kind of person you are.  But you are only one person, Harry, and by that I mean one day you will learn that in some point during our lives we all fail the people we love.  It's part of being human."

Though he knew Dumbledore spoke the truth, that didn't make accepting it any easier.  He didn't want to fail anyone, but the words were that much harder to swallow because he knew he would.  Cedric Diggory was only the beginning of what would be a long list of failures.

"Sir, I know Ginny was with me, but she shouldn't be held accountable.  I made her come with me," Harry insisted.

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched so he was smiling.  "I find that interesting, considering Miss Weasley has spent the last three hours insisting the exact opposite to me."

"How much trouble are we in?"  Harry dared to ask.

Dumbledore's smile dissolved.  "I think the knowledge that all future Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled is punishment enough.  I'm afraid it's no longer safe.  It will be some time before the shop owners recover from the damages."

"What about Hogwarts?"

"The school is still protected – Lord Voldemort knows that.  Any attack at this point would be premature and unwise.  He knows that as well."

Harry was pondering how long it would stay that way, when Dumbledore spoke again.

"I'm sure all this talking has worn you out, so I'll leave you to rest before Poppy uses force to remove me.  And believe me, it would not be the first time she's done that."

With those last words, Dumbledore took his leave.  Harry thought after all that he would be too wired to sleep, but he was gone mere seconds after he shut his eyes.

"You can stop worrying," Ron told Hermione while they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.  "Harry may have a death wish but it's never going to come true."

She gave him a disapproving frown.  "Ron, you shouldn't joke about things like that." 

"I'm sure he would say the same thing.  Look, if it'll make you feel any better we'll go back when Sirius is gone and you can ask him yourself."

"You can be such a prat," she said, trying to sound firm, but Ron could tell she wasn't being serious.

"I try," he said smiling at her in return.

She grabbed his hand at that moment and began leading him in the opposite direction of the common room.  She wasn't leading him in the direction of the hospital wing either.

"Where are we going?"  

Instead of answering, she continued leading him on until they came to a deserted hallway with a ledge and a window looking out onto the grounds below.

She went and sat down on the stone ledge.  "I think it's time we talked about everything that's happened with us since school started," she began.  "I know we're not totally okay, and I hate that it took Harry almost dying for me to realize how stupid I was being," she said, shaking her head.  "At first, I thought I'd do myself up a bit to show you I could be just as good as those models in _Modern Teen Witch_.  But then – and don't laugh at me – I sort of enjoyed Lavender and Pavarti's company on the odd occasion.  Nothing against you or Harry, but it was nice to have someone of the same gender to talk to for once."

"I didn't help the situation with us," Ron acknowledged, digging his hands into the pockets of his robe.  "I just couldn't help myself from thinking that once you let Lavender and Pavarti fill your head and started getting some attention you would realize you were wasting your time with me."

In an instant, Hermione was on her feet and standing in front of him.  She grabbed both his hands in hers and said, "Ron, I have _never_ thought that.  No matter how many times you've insulted or infuriated me, not for one second have I regret being with you."

"Maybe you should have," he said, breaking free of her touch.  "I've done a lot of thinking about us and I've come to the realization that all I've ever done is hold you back."

"That's not true," She said, vigorously shaking her head.

Ignoring her words, he continued.  "You're so much smarter and better then me at everything, and most of the time I just throw it back in your face because I'm trying to make myself feel better.  Don't you see what I've done?  I've made you settle for me, when any other bloke out there deserves you more than me."

She touched his face with her hand, gently forcing him to look at her.  "First of all, I never settled for you.  And secondly, I don't want any of those other blokes.  I want _you_."  She leaned forward, so her forehead was touching his.  "I wish you had told me about this before," she said softly.  "I hate that I've been making you feel these things."

"It's not your fault."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.  "Are you worried I'm going to leave you for some rule-following, model student?"

"You're not supposed to be the one making jokes.  That's my job," he said, trying to sound serious and failing.

She leaned forward a bit more and kissed him.  At first, Ron held back, and Hermione thought he would pull away, but then he started moving his lips along hers.

Hermione broke the kiss first.  "Are you okay now?" 

She was half expecting to hear some wise-ass remark, but he simply said, "yeah, I'm fine."

Normally she could tell when he was lying, but she couldn't then.   "Are you sure?  Ron, I don't want you – "

He pressed his lips against hers to silence her, giving her the answer she needed – but Hermione knew better.  Ron wore his emotions on his sleeves, and when he did try to hide something, more often than not he did a poor job of it – just as he was then.


	15. Lies My Girlfriend Told Me

CHAPTER FIFTEEN:  Lies My Girlfriend Told Me  

"Up for one more visitor?"

"Please, I've been going out of my mind here," Harry complained, motioning Hermione over.  "Madame Pomfrey insists on keeping me here until I stop grimacing every time I sit up."

"You look better," she observed.

"I _look_ bored."

Amusement glinted in her eyes.  "I would have thought you liked this place since you seem to end up here so much." 

Harry noticed easily that there was something very different about her mood.  "You seem happy," he stated.

"Ron and I made up," she said, her cheeks reddening.

Harry gave a satisfied nod.  "Good.  I was wondering when you two would see how thick you were being."

"I'd throw a pillow at you but I guess I shouldn't pick on the weak."

She was happy about Ron, but Harry picked up that something was troubling his friend.  "Something on your mind?"

"It's nothing," she said dismissively.

The way she said 'nothing' told Harry it was definitely something.  "I know it may not always seem this way but you can talk to me about anything," he said gently.

Often times didn't confide in him about things concerning her relationship with Ron.  Ron was his best friend too, and she didn't think it was fair to put him in the middle of their problems.  Other times she just did not want to burden him with her own relationship troubles because Harry had enough on his plate.  But today, she felt that talking to Harry might lighten the guilt she was feeling.

She let out a small sigh.  "Its just Ron and I had a long talk about everything and he said he didn't think he was good enough for me."

"And you think you should have known he was feeling that way?"

"Shouldn't I have?  We've been together for almost two years and I had no idea he was walking around with that inside him.  

"You can't blame yourself for what Ron feels.  We both know he's always felt like he's had to prove himself. He has some sort of a – a – "

"Inferiority complex," Hermione supplied when he couldn't think of the word.

Harry nodded.  "There's nothing you can do to change that.  It's his battle and he has to deal with it."

"Still, maybe I shouldn't have flaunted my marks in front of his face at every opportunity."

To that, Harry actually smiled.  "Hermione, Ron's proud of all your accomplishments – even if he has a less then enthusiastic way of showing it sometimes."  

Despite his truthful words, Hermione only felt marginally better.  Picking at his blanket, she thought what kind of a person was she if she had completely missed the fact that her boyfriend didn't think he deserved her?

"There's something else about Ron bothering you, isn't there?" Harry picked up.

"No, it's not about Ron," she said looking up.  "It's about Ginny,"

He was thrown for a moment when she mentioned Ginny's name.  "What is it?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," she said picking at his blanket again.

"If it was nothing it won't be bothering you.  Hermione, tell me," he urged.

"I noticed some marks on her arms last week.  She said she got them in Dark Arts class – but Harry these were serious bruises."

"I already knew that," said Harry.  "I mean not about the marks on her arms, but there were some bruises on her back."

"And you didn't find that strange?  We never got hurt like that."

Harry shrugged.  "Maybe they've changed the program this year.  The exercises are probably more rigorous now."

"Harry, I saw her the next morning and the marks were gone," she persisted, not letting up.

"So she's just a fast healer, or maybe Madame Pomfrey gave her something."

Hermione wanted to smack him – if he wasn't lying in a hospital bed, she would have.  How could he be so daft?  "Harry, it's humanly impossible to have bruises like Ginny had and have them disappear completely overnight.  Any healing potion takes at least two days to completely remove bruises or cuts," she said, speaking as if she were quoting from a textbook.  "It wasn't just that one time either.  I've noticed other marks when we've been training together."

"I think you're making a big deal out of something that isn't."

"I hope I am, but it wouldn't hurt for you to broach the subject to her, would it?"

Harry sighed in resignation.  "Ok, ok, I'll talk to her," he agreed, desperate to get Hermione off his back.  "But I still think you're wrong."

Hermione stayed a little longer after that, and they talked about anything except Ron or Ginny.  After she was gone, Harry very much wanted to believe that this was one of those few times Hermione Granger was wrong.

        It was late Monday afternoon when the Hogwarts matron finally released Harry from her care.  For all his stays in the hospital wing over the last seven years, it had not gotten any easier to pass the time.  He had enough visitors, but even that couldn't keep boredom from seeping in.  Being forced to lie in a bed all day, with nothing to do except homework could do that to a person.  

Not surprisingly, Hermione had told him that most of Gryffindor seemed to know about his escapade into Hogsmeade with Ginny.  When they found out how he had been injured they didn't seem to be in such awe of him anymore.  That was perfectly fine with Harry.  He didn't want any more admirers.    

        The common room was alive with activity when Harry slipped inside through the portrait hole.  Dean and Seamus were the first ones to slap him on the shoulder and welcome him back.  Soon, other Gryffindors, all in various years, were coming up to Harry and telling him they were glad to see him up and about again.  No one breathed a word of why he had been in the hospital wing in the first place.

When Harry was able to break away from everyone, he caught sight of Ron over by the fire, engaged in a game of wizard's chess with Neville.  Judging by all Neville's dismembered pieces laying off to the side, he was losing badly.

        "How are you feeling, Harry?"  Neville asked, glad for an interruption from the game.

        "A lot better, thanks."

"I didn't know you were leaving the hospital wing today," said Ron, keeping his attention on the game.

        "Madame Pomfrey sees enough of me on a regular basis, so it wasn't too hard to convince her to let me go."

        "Thanks for what you did for Ginny," said Ron, his eyes focused on the chessboard while he moved his knight forward.

        "I told you I would look out for her."

        "No, I mean for almost getting her killed." 

        His statement caught Harry completely off guard.  Ron had come to visit him several times and had never seemed angry before.  What had changed?  "Ron, I didn't know what would happen," Harry tried to tell him.

        "How stupid of me?  How could you know?"  He stood up so fast he knocked the chessboard over.  "There's only been about a dozen death eater attacks since school started, but who would ever think that they would attack Hogsmeade?"

        Every one in the common room had turned to stare at them.  They never mentioned the attacks openly like that, and the younger students that were around looked frightened at Ron's words.  The rest seemed interested in the fight that was seemingly in the works.

        "But I guess the rules have never applied to you," Ron went on angrily,  "Because you're bloody Harry Potter and you can do whatever you bloody-well like."

        "We've both broken enough school rules over the years, but that's not what this is about, is it?  You're trying to make this about Ginny when it's really about you being jealous," Harry shot back, his own temper flaring.  

        Ron's jaw muscles clenched.  "Grow up, Harry.  I've learned enough not to want to be like you anymore."

        "Are you sure?  Maybe if you had a scar on your face you would feel like you were good enough for once in your life."

        He knew as soon as the words left his mouth he should not have used his private conversation with Hermione against Ron.  It was one thing to feel insecure and undeserving, it was another to be accused of it.

        Eyes cold as ice, Ron said, "when did you become such a bastard, Harry?"    

        Harry was now well aware of the crowd surrounding them, watching their every move.  Most were probably hoping for some sort of fight to break out, and despite how angry he was feeling that was the last thing Harry wanted to happen.  He did not want to see the furious look on Madame Pomfrey's face if he ended up back in the hospital wing that night – because of fighting no less.  He was already walking a fine line, after sneaking off to Hogsmeade.  So, he chose the only real option left to him.  He pushed passed Ron and the gathered crowd, taking the staircase up to the boy's dormitory two steps at a time.

        Even with the door slightly ajar to the seventh year boys' dorm, Ginny knocked.  When she got no response she took it upon herself to enter.  With six older brothers, there would be nothing she hadn't seen before.

        There were no lights on, but she could see well enough with the remaining sunlight pouring through the single glass window to find Harry lying on his bed, hands crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

        When she stepped on a creaking floorboard, he turned his head to look at her.  He looked surprised to see her, probably because it was the boys' dorm, but he stayed silent.

        "Neville just told me you'd left the hospital wing."  When he still refused to speak, she said, "how long have you been up here like this?"

        Harry merely shrugged in reply.  

        "I know about what happened in the common room." She came over and sat at the edge of his bed.  "For best mates, you and my brother sure do a good job of ticking each other off."

        "I think we both got a little carried away."

        "Don't worry, I already had it out with Ron downstairs about what happened."

        Harry sat up, saying, "this is between me and him, you shouldn't have gotten involved."

        "If Ron's being a prat, someone has to talk him down, and since Hermione wasn't around I took the job myself."

        He was staring at her but he didn't seem to know what to say.

        "You missed dinner," she said after a moment.

        "I wasn't hungry."

        She hated when he got like this.  When he got in a mood like the one he was in now there wasn't much she could do to bring him out of it.  Usually she would just leave him alone or talk to him for a bit until he stopped answering altogether.  For a lot of people, some time alone would do them good, but for Harry, all it ever did was allow him wallow in his own depression.  She suppressed a shiver, knowing full well what went on in that head of his.

        "How are your arms?"

        She was not expecting that question, and ended up stumbling through a response.  "The – they're all better."

        "Are you sure?"

        "Of course I'm sure.  They are my own arms.  Why do you keep asking?"

        "Hermione was worried about you.  She thought maybe you were more hurt then you were letting on."

        "They're fine, see," she said, pushing up her sleeves to reveal perfectly healthy white skin.  "I think Hermione's just overreacting."

        "But you shouldn't have gotten hurt like that in the first place.  Maybe Lupin's pushing your class too hard – "

        "He's not," she stated firmly.

        He almost wished Hermione hadn't said anything to him, because now he found himself torn between believing her and wondering if there was something else going on that she wasn't telling him.

        "Now are you going to hide up here all night or are you going to come downstairs with me?"

        "I think I'll just stay up here and get some homework done," replied Harry, reaching down the side of his bed for his school bag.

        That was not the response she had been hoping for. Staying alone was absolutely the worst thing for Harry.  He was most certainly not going to do homework.  As soon as she left, he would probably go back to the brooding state he'd been in since before her arrival.

        She wasn't going to give up on him yet, though.

        Edging closer to his bed, she didn't stop until she was sitting right beside him.  She leaned forward as if to kiss him, but Harry turned his head to the side.

        "Don't, Gin," he said, his voice low.

        He wouldn't even look at her, and she wasn't sure if that hurt more then him refusing to kiss her.  It quickly became clear that it was time for her to leave.  Harry didn't want her around, and quite frankly she didn't want to be near him anymore either.  

        Without so much as a 'goodbye', she slipped out of the boys' dorm.  Tomorrow, Harry would approach her and act as if what had transpired between them had never happened – because that was what he always did.  And she always let him.

        Hermione was waiting for Harry when he arrived at their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom the next morning.  She had spent all of breakfast telling him everything he had missed, and when she had offered to have her and Ron show him the new attack techniques, Ron had glowered at her from across the table, but had stayed silent.  Harry wasn't mad at him anymore, but he wasn't about to apologize when he knew the chances of Ron doing the same were slim to none.

        "Did you talk to Ginny?"  She asked as casually as she could.

        "I did, last night, and she's fine, just like I told you she would be."

        That answer did not seem to satisfy Hermione.  "Maybe she's not telling you everything.  Maybe – "

        "No, Hermione, that's it.  Don't ask me to investigate my girlfriend anymore," Harry stated sternly. 

        "I'm just trying to look out for my friend."

        "No, you're not.  You're forcing the issue when there's no reason to – unless there's something you're not telling me."

        Harry saw her slip.  He could tell by her eyes there was more going on then she was letting on.

        "Hermione, you have to tell me," he pleaded.

        "I don't know for sure," she said, lowering her voice, as to not be overheard.

        "Don't know what for sure?"  Harry pressed.

        "In Ancient Runes we're studying how the first dark wizards brewed certain potions so they could invade the dreams of their enemy.  They would use dark magic to take away all the positive feelings in the sleeping person so they could only have nightmares.  It drove some wizards insane, being plagued by their worst fears night after night."

        "But I'm not having any nightmares," he said, not sure where was going with this information.

        "The potion can also be brewed to have the opposite effect," she continued.  "Witches and wizards would normally use it on their own children if they had successive nightmares.  When Voldemort gained power the first time, it was used excessively because of the wide spread fear.  But it takes a very experienced med-witch or wizard to make because their can be serious side effects."

        "You think this is what Ginny's doing?"

        "I don't know for sure, Harry.  I should have looked in to it when Ginny told me what she was planning to do for you.  I had no idea how dangerous some of these spells could be."

        "Hermione, I can't just accuse her of this without any proof."

        Ron walked into the class then.  He came over to sit on the other side of Hermione, carefully avoiding looking in Harry's direction.

        "Find the book she's using.  You have to trust me on this," she said in a hushed tone so Ron wouldn't hear her.

        The class started a moment later when Lupin walked, and they spent the next hour copying notes about the proper techniques for hand-to-hand combat.

        When the lesson was over, Hermione packed up her books, saying, "I'm going to Arithmancy.  I hope when I see you two at lunch you've stopped being stubborn gits and are acting like best mates again."

        "She's too smart for her own good that girl," said Ron, when she had left them.

        "It has come in handy over the years," Harry pointed out.  He could see Ron was struggling not to grin.

        "About last night in the common room," Ron started, growing serious.  "I guess I let my temper get the better of me,"

        "It's okay."

        "I just – "

        "I know," Harry cut in.

        "Let's hurry up and get to Divination," Ron said gruffly.  "I don't want to be stuck sitting in the front with the old bat giving you pitying looks the entire time.  Maybe today she'll finally predict a quick, and clean death for you."

        This time they both grinned and began the trek up to the North Tower.

        Hermione was so happy that he and Ron were on speaking terms again, that she didn't even comment on his leaving lunch earlier to do some research in the library.  But first he had to stop by his dorm to pick something up.

        It was much harder to sneak around with the Invisibility cloak during the daytime because of the number of students and professors walking around.  And it was that much more difficult for him to sneak into the restricted section with Madame Pince sitting at her desk.  He had to wait until she left to help a student before he could risk opening the wrought iron gate.  Getting back out would be a problem, but he would deal with that when the time came.  

        He probably knew the restricted section better then most students.  He had lost track of the times he, Ron, and Hermione had snuck in there over the years.  Though he was somewhat suspicious of the times when Ron and Hermione had insisted they could look for the books on their own.  He had never asked Ron afterwards why he always came back looking so happy when he hated the library.

        Harry had never read any of the dream casting books before, but there was only one in particular he was interested in.  He really hoped it was there because he didn't relish the thought of having to sneak into Ginny's room to get it.  He wasn't sure he was ready to go that far, even when Hermione's hunches were rarely wrong.

        After some searching he found what he was looking for.  He pulled out the copy of _When Good Dreams Turn Bad_ and brought it underneath his cloak.  He started flipping through the pages as quietly as he could, until he came to page three hundred and four, _The Purging of Nightmares_.  He made a spot on the floor and sat there, reading every word about the potion.  It carried on over three pages.  When he was done, it was all he could do to keep himself from going to Ginny's class and pulling her out of there.

        He waited until dinner that night before approaching Ginny.  He found her locked in conversation with Colin Creevy about photography.  Colin was explaining the portfolio of pictures he was making, in hopes that after graduation he could get a job at the _Daily Prophet_.

        Harry leaned close to her ear and whispered, "we need to talk.  _Now_."

        She could sense the urgency in his voice, but before she could even formulate a response he was hauling her out of there.  He dragged her to an empty classroom, not saying so much as one word.  He closed the door behind them, then took out his wand and muttered a silencing charm.  She noticed he was still wearing his school bag.

        She didn't know what had gotten in to him, but he had no right to tear her away from her friends like that without even an explanation.  "You could have at least let me say good bye to Colin," she fumed. "You can't just drag me off like I'm some – "  

        She didn't get a chance to finish the rest of that sentence because he opened his bag and slammed a very raggedy looking book onto the desk in front of her.  She recognized it as _When Good Dreams Turn Bad_.

        "You've been lying to me for weeks," he accused.  His voice was calm but his green eyes were burning with barely controlled fury.

        Dozens of plausible excuses popped into her brain.  She could fix this without having to admit to anything – or at least that's what a small part of her still thought.  The rest of her knew lying any further at this point would be futile.  Harry knew everything.   

        "Harry, let me explain," she started.

        "Why the hell should I let you explain anything?  It'll probably just be more lies because that's all you seem to be capable of."

        "I hated every second I had to lie to you.  It killed me that I couldn't tell you what I was doing, but I knew you wouldn't have let me do it otherwise," she pleaded with him to understand.  "This thing is not as bad as you're making out to be."

        "For the potion to work you have to drink it too.  And then my nightmares get transferred over to you and they show up as marks on your skin.  I did the reading."

        "They're only temporary." she insisted.  "They last a few days at most and then go away.  It's only because I haven't learned to control the spell yet.  When I do – "

        "Why are you still talking like you're going to keep doing this?"  He shouted.

        "Because that's the only way I'm going to learn!"  She shouted back.  "And because this is the only way I know how to help you!"

        "You promised me that this wouldn't involve endangering yourself in any way.  But that was just another lie!"  He exploded.

        "It was my choice to make," she said defiantly.

        Before her brain could comprehend what was happening, Harry had her pinned against the wall, and was grabbing both of her arms.  He roughly began pushing up the sleeves, revealing bare skin. There was a pattern of bruises covering her lower forearms, each one as long as Harry's thumb.  "Why would you choose this?"  He demanded, shaking her.

         His fingers were digging into her flesh, but he wouldn't let up.  "Let go, you're hurting me," she cried out.

        "Tell me why you would choose this," he repeated, gripping her arms so hard she thought he was going to snap them in two.

        She thought she had known why she had done it, why she had chosen to help him.  But all her carefully thought out reasoning escaped her then.  Staring at this person who looked every bit like Harry, but acted nothing like him.  She wasn't so sure now why she had been so quick to help.  She wasn't so sure she wanted to know this person he turned in to.

        "I'm not worth _this_," he said, shaking now himself.  "Nobody is." Then he finally let go, pushing himself away from her. 

        Until that moment, Ginny had never thought it possible to be afraid of Harry Potter, but there she was, shaking and numb with the pain from her arms.  A realization struck her then that she was more scared of him then she had ever been of Tom Riddle.  With Tom it had been different – she had known what he was capable of, but had been too much under the influence of the diary to stop herself.  But with Harry, he had always been this troubled, yet gentle person, willing to help anyone, without so much as a thought to his own safety.  She had no idea he had it in himself to be this cruel.

        She wondered if his thoughts mirrored hers as he left the classroom, slamming the door violently behind him.


	16. Beyond Repair

CHAPTER SIXTEEN:  Beyond Repair   

        Seconds after Harry's departure, Ginny found herself running to the classroom door and flinging it open.  She frantically searched for any sign of him in either direction, but he had disappeared out of sight.  She wondered briefly why she was so desperate to find him.  After that display in the classroom, the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him.  Marks were already starting to form on her arms that had nothing to do with the nightmare purging spell.  

        Without question, she knew she had very likely screwed up any chance she had with Harry.  Really, was it even worth it to go after him?  Was there anything she could say to repair the damage she had caused?  The more she thought about it the more she realized how slim her chances were of finding him if he did not want to be found.  Harry was very good at disappearing when he wanted to.

        Preoccupied with the bombardment of thoughts swarming through her mind, she didn't see the person turning the corner in front of her and stumbled right into them.  

        "I'm sorry," she apologized, recovering her balance. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

        "That's all right.  I think I'm still in one piece."

        She blinked when she recognized it was Sirius.  "I thought you had left."

        "I did, but I had some business with Dumbledore and I thought I'd check in with Harry before I left again.  Have you seen him around?"

        "I don't know where he is," she answered truthfully.

        Sirius gave her a look that seemed to say there was something she wasn't telling him, but he didn't question her further.  "I'm sure I'll see him around," he said, seemingly unconcerned.  "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

        She found it strange that he wanted to walk with her but she nodded nonetheless.  She had never spent any time with Sirius Black alone before, but she had a feeling his offer had something to do with Harry.  

        Once outside, Ginny wished she had not been so quick to agree to a walk with Harry's godfather.  It was a cool November evening and without her winter cloak on, the wind was making her teeth chatter.    

        "Harry means a lot to you," Sirius said as they walked.

        She wasn't sure how she was supposed to answer that.  "I've known him a long time."

        That wasn't entirely accurate.  She had known Harry since before her first day at Hogwarts but she hadn't really gotten to _know_ him as a person until last year.

        "I think a lot about what he would be like if he had grown up with a real family.  I know he has yours," said Sirius, looking at her, "but it's not the same.  I think Harry knows that too."

        She wanted to know what point he was trying to make, but she didn't know a way to word it without sounding completely rude.  She decided to say instead, "maybe you should be having this conversation with someone else."

        To her surprise, Sirius actually chuckled.  "I would, but I'm sure you've noticed Harry's not exactly one to express how he's feeling."

        She gave a short nod.  She knew that better than anyone – perhaps even better then Ron and Hermione.

        "He may not have said it directly but I know that Harry cares about you a great deal.  And he's let his feelings for you cloud his better judgment."

        Ah, now she understood what he was getting at.  "I agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Harry, so don't blame it all on him, Sirius."

        "I'm not just talking about Hogsmeade, Ginny.  I had this same conversation with Harry and he didn't understand that I was only trying to look out for him.  He seemed to think I was interfering in something that was none of my business."

        "Are you?" She asked, startled by her own boldness.

        "Harry is going to go through a lot before this year is over," he said, choosing not to answer her question.  "He's already been through more than anyone should in a lifetime.  I don't want to see him get himself killed."

        "He won't.  Professor Lupin's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has ever had."  She wasn't just saying that because Lupin and Sirius were good friends either.

        "I know Harry can take care of himself – that's not what I'm worried about."

        He was staring at her so intently she was reminded of Harry.  She wished he would stop because it was making her uncomfortable.

        "Voldemort will have spies whose sole job is to watch Harry.  I bet there's at least several in the school at this very moment.  What do you think is going to happen when they report back to their master that Harry Potter has a girlfriend?"

        "When he was dating Cho Chang you never made a big deal about it."

        "Things weren't as bad last year as they are now.  And Harry and Cho were much more discreet then you two are," he added pointedly.  "Ginny, don't you see?  You're Harry's greatest weakness and don't think for a second Voldemort would pass up the chance to use that to his advantage."

        "You want me to break up with him," she said, full comprehension coming to her.

        "I want you to do what's right for you and Harry.  If you feel for him as deeply as I think you do, I know you'll do the right thing."

        The full impact of what Sirius wanted her to do had not sunk in until she crawled into her bed that night.  The last thing she wanted was to become a pawn for Voldemort and used against Harry, but she had known the risks when she had started up a relationship with Harry – and so had he, though they had never spoken them out loud.  She appreciated that Sirius was looking out for his godson's best interests, but how dare he ask her what he had.  She closed her eyes and refused to dwell on it any longer.

        Exactly three days had passed and Draco Malfoy seemed to be paying more attention to Ginny then Harry, who refused to look her way or have any sort of a conversation with her.  It didn't appear to be bothering him at all pretending that she didn't exist.  At first, she thought she could handle the silence between them.  As good as her intentions might have been, she had deceived him and he had every right to be angry.  She had thought though that after a few days he would have cooled down enough to start sitting with her at mealtimes again, and maybe talk things over.  When that never happened she started to concede the fact that it really was over.  

        After the second day of getting the silent treatment from him, Ron had asked her what was going on.  She had simply told him they had a fight.  She didn't ask what Harry's answer had been.    

        She was sure that if Sirius had been around to see the state their relationship was in he would have been quite happy.

        She tried not to think about what he had said, but it was hard not to knowing that she had made herself a liability to Harry – a liability that he no longer seemed to care about.

        She was on her way to her Charms class when she saw him up ahead with Oliver Wood.  Instead of walking straight passed him like she had the two previous days, she approached him.

        Harry saw her coming and quickly ended his conversation with Oliver, but by that time she was already standing right in front of him.  She tried blocking his path, but he went around her.

        "Harry, please," she said, grabbing his arm.

        He shrugged her off and kept walking.

        "So that's why he's been in such a foul mood these days," Oliver remarked.

        "And it's all thanks to me," she muttered under her breath.

        "He has a lot on his mind, but he'll come around eventually," Wood said, in an attempt to cheer her up. 

        It was a sign of how bad things had gotten when Oliver Wood, whom she had never had any conversations with outside the Quidditch pitch, was attempting to comfort her.

        "I better get to class," she said.  She didn't need detention on top of everything else that was going on.

        "Listen, Gryffindor plays Slytherin this afternoon.  Maybe you can talk to Harry before the match starts," Oliver said before walking off.

        Though she didn't think Harry was any more likely to talk to her then, she decided she had nothing left to lose by trying.

        This close to game time, the stands were filled with the respective Gryffindor and Slytherin supporters.  Ginny had planned on waiting until after the match to speak with Harry, but on her way passed the locker room she saw him standing outside the doors – but to her great disappointment he was not alone.  Cho was with him and they looked to be having a deep conversation until the older girl spotted Ginny watching them.  She patted Harry's arm and said one last thing, which Ginny assumed to be good luck, before heading for the stands.  

        Harry stayed standing where he was and Ginny thought maybe he was finally ready to talk to her.  She should have known better then to expect any miracles.  Before she could approach him he turned and walked in to the locker room.

        She wasn't sure what came over her, but she was so sick of Harry acting the way he was that she marched into the change room after him.

        "I know you're angry at me, but at least stop being such a child about it and talk to me."

        If he was surprised that she followed him into the change room, he kept it well hidden.  "I don't have anything to say to you, so why would I want to talk?"

        His coldness stung her but she fought not to let it show.  "Of course you don't want to talk.  You would rather just keep it all locked up inside."

        "This isn't a good time to do this," he mumbled, grabbing his Firebolt off one of the benches.

        "It's never a good time is it, Harry?"

        "What do you want from me, Ginny?" 

        "To know that what's going on with us is killing you as much as it is me.  I think the day you grabbed me in the classroom was the most responsive you've ever been.  Or maybe if I talked to Cho she would tell me something different."

        Harry shrugged, saying, "do whatever you want, Ginny.  But there's nothing between Cho and me.  If you want to think otherwise, go right ahead."

        Bringing up Cho had been a cheap shot to hurt him, especially when she knew better.  He and Cho were long since history, but even that hadn't stop her from feeling a pang of jealousy when she had seen them together earlier.

        Turning his head to the side, so he wouldn't have to look at her, he said, "I can't do this with you right now.  They're waiting for me."

        "And it's always everyone else before me, right?"

        "Ginny, I've got a match to play.  I mean, what else is there to say?"

        "Nothing. I guess there's nothing left to say.  Too bad I didn't realize that days ago.  I could have saved myself a lot of trouble."

She had barely gone two steps when she felt Harry's weight pinning her against the lockers, his mouth capturing hers in a bruising kiss.  At first, she kissed him in return, but quickly discovered that his reasons for kissing her had little to do with making amends.  He was using it as a way to channel his anger into her – and Ginny wanted no part in that.  When she tried pulling away, he wouldn't let her.  

"Harry, stop," she begged, pressing her hands against his chest in an attempt to push him away.  But Harry didn't seem to hear her, his hands too busy trying to unfasten her cloak.

"Harry, what's taking so long?  If you don't hurry up the match is going to start without you – "

The sound of the intruder's voice seemed to knock Harry out the state he'd been in.  He relaxed his grip on Ginny and pushed himself away from her.

Ron was standing there watching them, his mind quickly absorbing what he had walked in on.  Humiliated enough already, Ginny pushed passed Harry and all but ran out of the locker room, not caring that how ashamed or sorry he looked.  Harry, though, wasn't able to get off quite so easily.

Ron's face was livid.  "Do you want to tell me what was going on in here?"

"Not really," Harry replied shakily.  He had heard her telling him to stop, but he had ignored her pleas.  What was wrong with him?  No matter how upset he was how could he have let himself behave that way?

Ron was on him in an instant, grabbing the front of his Quidditch robes and slamming him back into the nearest locker.  "You want to know what it looked like to me?  It looked like my sister was trying to push you off her, but you wouldn't let her!"

"Ron, I meant to stop.  I didn't mean for things to go that far."

Admitting guilt was probably the worst thing Harry could have done – even worse then lying – because he just added more fuel to Ron's seething anger.

"So help me, if I ever see you forcing yourself on Ginny again, I'll give you a reason to stay at St. Mungo's _permanently_."

Giving Harry one final shove to show the seriousness of the threat, Ron let him go and stormed out onto the pitch.  

Even knowing he still had a game to play, Quidditch was the last thing on Harry's mind.  He considered going after Ginny.  He needed to somehow – as impossible as it seemed – to try and fix the damage he had caused.  In the end, the only thing that stopped him from going and finding her was he was too ashamed to admit to himself what he had let happen.

When Ginny first heard the knocking on her door she ignored it.  If it was one of her dorm mates, they could have easily entered, and she was not up to talking to anyone else.

The knocking persisted, and she heard a voice say, "as Head Girl I can order you to open this door, Ginny."

At the sound of Hermione's voice, Ginny knew there was no escaping by feigning asleep.  Hermione would make it her duty to come inside whether or not she answered.

"Come in, Hermione," she called out.

The older girl wasted no time in entering the room, making sure to close the door behind her.  Hermione was looking like she hadn't expected Ginny to give in so easily, and was momentarily thrown for what to say.

"You missed the match."

Sitting on her bed, Ginny hugged her knees up to her chest.  "I didn't really feel like watching it."

"You wouldn't have liked what you saw anyways," Hermione remarked.

"That bad?"

Hermione nodded earnestly.  "I could tell from the start of the match that something was off with Harry.  Any other day he would have run circles around Malfoy."

 She was glad that Harry had played horribly.  That meant there was a chance that at least some small part of him regretted what had happened in the locker room.

"Did you and Harry have another fight?"  Hermione asked gently.  "You don't have to tell me about it, but it might help to talk to someone."

Ginny understood what Hermione was doing.  She was giving her the option of confiding in her, or she could just shut her out right then and pretend she didn't desperately need to get this off her chest.

"Do you understand Harry?"

Hermione looked slightly taken aback by the question, and Ginny watched her give it some thought before responding.

"Harry may be my best friend, but I don't pretend to know – or for that matter understand why he acts the way he does sometimes.  Ginny, you have to understand that Harry's a very complex person.  The more he cares about you, the harder he pushes you away.  I know that doesn't make much sense, but that's 'Harry logic'."

"You're right, it doesn't make any sense," she agreed.    

"I think on some level Harry thinks he doesn't deserve love or affection because of the way he was brought up," said Hermione, coming over to sit on the side of her bed.  "He hasn't learned yet that there are a lot of people who love him and would do anything for him regardless of whether or not he was The Boy Who Lived.  He reacts the only way he knows how – by pushing people away.  It's his way of testing us.  If we push back, it lets him know we're not going anywhere."

"I don't think I can push back anymore," Ginny told her.  "If I really mattered to him, he would have said something by now, right?"

"I really don't know, Ginny," she answered honestly. 

"Maybe I should just end things now."

"Is that really what you want?  Did Ron say something – "

"No, Ron hasn't said anything.  Surprisingly, he hasn't interfered at all."

"Then why else would you be thinking of breaking things off with Harry?"

Ginny couldn't give her an answer.  It was a combination of Harry's recent behaviour and Sirius' not so subtle suggestion that she do the right thing.  But Ginny couldn't tell Hermione any of this.

"I know this is a personal question, so you don't have answer – but do you love him?"

"Yes – I mean maybe.  I don't know."

"Then don't give up on him yet," said Hermione, her tone hopeful.  "Harry may yet surprise you."

Ginny really wanted to believe her, but when she thought about Harry's reaction that day in the classroom when he had confronted her, and then the way he had acted today in the locker room, she wasn't so sure it was possible.

"Listen, I'm going to take a shower now," Hermione began, "but if you want to talk some more later, come up to my room, okay?"

Ginny nodded her thanks and Hermione left shortly after, leaving her even more confused about what to do about Harry then before.

The water from the shower had been pounding against Harry's skin for so long he almost couldn't feel it anymore.  He was hoping that if he stayed in there long enough he would either drown or his skin would just eventually fall off.  Both options seemed preferable to the hell he was going through at that moment.

He'd blown the match against Slytherin as bad as he had blown things with Ginny.  Malfoy's gloating face kept coming back to him – smugly waving the Snitch back and forth in front of his face.  The win had all but erased any hopes Gryffindor had of regaining first place.  He probably deserved losing.  

He swore and punched out at the tiles, doing more damage to his knuckles then to the wall.

He was so sick of everything.  Sick of feeling responsible for everyone, and then sick of feeling guilty whenever he let them done.  But most of all he was sick of screwing things up with a certain red-haired Weasley.

He lashed out at the tiles again.

He had convinced himself that pursuing a relationship with her had been the right thing to do.  He was still very much angry with her for the dream potion thing, but that had only opened his eyes to the mess he had created.  He should have listened to Ron and backed off when he had the chance, instead of starting something with Ginny he knew he couldn't finish.

He hit the same spot on the shower wall again and again until blood started leaking out of his knuckles and mixing with the shower water.

_You're such a goddamn idiot, Potter_.

"Harry?"

The muffled voice from outside the shower startled him back to reality.

"Who's there?" 

"It's Hermione."

He swore again, but it was low enough that she couldn't hear him over the noise of the shower.  "Give me a minute and I'll be out.  And keep your back turned, will you?"

He turned off the water and opened the shower door just wide enough so he could grab a towel and pull it through.  Once it was securely wrapped around his waist he noticed his cut hand.  There was nothing he could do to cover that up without drawing more attention to it, so he stepped out of the stall, glad to see Hermione still had her back to him.

"What are you doing here anyways?"  He asked.  "What's wrong with your bathroom?"

He was scrambling for a shirt to throw on.  The situation was already awkward enough with Hermione having caught him in the shower.  He didn't fancy having a conversation with her with a just a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Something's clogging up the plumbing.  If I had known you were in here I wouldn't have come barging in."

She must have seen his Quidditch robes on the floor when she had walked in.  Maybe she had heard him hitting the defenseless wall and stayed.

"You can turn around now," he said, throwing an old t-shirt over his head.  "The shower's yours."  The boy's bathroom was just down the hall.  He could finish changing in there.  

"Harry, you're hand!"  She cried in alarm, her eyes widening at sight of his knuckles, dark red blood seeping out of them. She reached for one of the smaller face towels and began wrapping it around his injured hand.  "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No, not really," he said, wishing she would stop fussing over him.  A few raw looking knuckles were the least of what he deserved.

"Harry, I'm serious, why did you do this to your hand?"

"Does it matter?" He bit off angrily.

She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying he should go to the hospital wing.  He would never go for it, and she didn't want to argue with him.  He looked distressed enough as it was.  She watched him rake both hands through his wet hair, making it stand up on end.

"I really made a mess of things with Ginny," he said, lowering his head.  "The way I acted – the things I said – I was so horrible."

Her heart wretched at seeing the agony he was going through.  He had never before opened up to her in such an emotional and vulnerable way.

"I was a selfish bastard," he continued.  "I started a relationship with her when it was the last thing I should have done.  Everything I do seems to end up making things worse. "

"Harry, I know the type of person you are, and I know you wouldn't have started anything with Ginny if you didn't care for her."

"Don't you see, Hermione?  I wasn't being fair.  I've known for years how she's felt about me and I took advantage of that when I should have stayed away from her.  Ginny deserves someone that can be completely open with her – someone who won't keep secrets from her – and I can't do that."

"You have to try," she said to him.  "Harry, she's not going to wait forever."

"Did she say something to you?"

"We talked a bit earlier.  She wants to know that she means something to you."

Harry stared down at his hands.  "Did she also tell you what happened before the match?"

"No, she didn't really say anything about that.  Why?  What happened?"

"I can't.  You'd hate me if I told you.  Just trust me when I say things are beyond repair.  There's only so many things an apology can fix, and this isn't one of them."

Hermione hesitated before speaking next.  It really wasn't her place to say anything, but she thought it was the only way to get through to him.  "She loves you, you know – and that's despite everything that's happened."

"Well, she shouldn't.  I've done nothing but hurt her," he said, running his hands through his hair again.  "She accused me today of being emotionless with her."

        "Are you?"  It was their years of friendship that allowed her to ask that question.

Nearly a minute passed before Harry responded.  "Sometimes," he admitted, shame seeping into his voice.  "I don't do it to hurt her.  It happens because – because she makes me feel too much, and it scares me to the point that I don't know how to deal with that.  I've never felt for anyone what I feel for Ginny but I don't know how to tell her that."

"Tell her what you just told me."

Harry shook his head.  "I can't."

"You'll lose her if you don't."

He felt like he already had.  With the way he had treated her, Ginny would well be within her rights never to speak to him again.

He felt Hermione place a warm hand on his cheek.  "Harry, at least try to work things out with her, or you'll regret it."  Then she grabbed her towels and the other belongings she had brought down and left the Prefect's bathroom.  

Harry knew what he had to do if he wanted a chance of salvaging their relationship.  He just wasn't sure if he would be capable of doing it. 


	17. The Hardest Thing

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:  The Hardest Thing

        "Lupin sure knows how to ruin a weekend," Ron stated grumpily, flipping uninterestedly through his notes on proper dueling techniques.

        "He's not the only one," Harry acknowledged, knowing they still had Charms and Transfiguration midterms to study for.  It was only Friday night but with the workload they had been given they would be lucky to get through it in time for Monday's classes.  

        "If we stick to Defense Against the Dark Arts tonight, we won't have to review it again until Sunday because the midterm's not until Tuesday," said Hermione, the voice of reason as always.

        Ron groaned.  "By the time I'm done with this I'm not going to have the energy to study for anything else."

        Harry silently agreed with Ron, even when he knew they both had little to complain about.  Hermione had two more classes then them and she seemed all right.  Of course, knowing her she had probably started revising months ago.

        Taking off his glasses, Harry rubbed his tired eyes.  Turning in early was not an option for him, otherwise he would have twice as much work to do on Saturday.  

At the sound of the portrait hole opening, he put his glasses back on and turned his head in that direction.  Colin Creevy and Ginny Weasley entered the common room, chattering adamantly amongst themselves.  Harry readied himself to look down at his notes if she caught him staring, but she didn't look over – and why would she?  He had made no attempts to communicate with her since the incident in the Quidditch locker room earlier in the week.  It wasn't that he didn't want to; he just didn't see how offering up an apology could fix anything.  He wasn't sure if he was ready for her forgiveness either.  It was just easier on the both of them if he stayed away from her.  

        He felt someone tap his shins under the table.  His head snapped around to see it was Hermione who had kicked him.  While Ron was actually absorbed in reading something from his Dark Arts text, she indicated her head in Ginny's direction and mouthed the words _talk to her_.  Harry shook his head and picked up his quill to start writing again.  She kicked him again, only this time with more force, and shot him another meaningful look.  He gave in.  He wasn't sure if it was because he was worried Hermione would keep kicking his shins until he did, or because he desperately wanted to talk to Ginny, and this looked to be his best opportunity in days to do just that.  In any case, there was only so long he could put off talking to her.

        Ron went to say something when he saw Harry stand up, but Hermione effectively shushed him.

        Harry had gone over in his head at least a thousand times what he would finally say to her, but for all his practice it seemed to elude him the second he approached her and Colin.  He was hoping Colin would take the hint and walk away when he noticed him coming towards them, but he stayed where he was at Ginny's side, almost as if he were trying to protect her from him.  She did a good job of hiding her shock when she saw him approaching. 

        He nodded curtly at Colin, before turning to Ginny.  "Can we go somewhere?" He asked in a low voice.  

        She briefly considered his offer before nodding her head.  "I'll see you in a bit, Colin."

        Harry was all too aware of Colin's eyes on them as they stepped through the portrait hole.  He certainly didn't look like the same kid who had walked around worshipping him for the last six years.  He reached the obvious conclusion that Ginny had told him some of what happened.  What he wondered was exactly _how_ much she had told him.

        He let her lead the way.  He didn't care where they were going as long as they were alone.  He was more than a little caught off guard when she led him up to the Astronomy Tower.  It was the favourite snogging place for many Hogwarts students, and if things hadn't been so tense between them he would have commented on it.  But it turned out to be empty that night, which meant they could talk freely without having to worry about their voices carrying.

        She kept her arms folded over her chest, waiting for him to speak.  Harry noticed she was keeping a fair amount of distance between them.  He couldn't blame her after their last couple of encounters.

        It had been a long walk up to the tower, and she had pushed up the sleeves on her robe to cool herself, revealing small welts each the size of a fingerprint.

        "I hurt you," said Harry, his voice flat.  He remembered how roughly he had grabbed her that evening in the classroom.  No matter how many times he went over it in his head, he still didn't understand how he had turned so violent.

        Pushing her sleeves back down to cover them, she shrugged off his concern, saying, "I've been hurt worse."

        Fingers nervously playing with the hem of his robe, he said, "I've missed you." 

        Anger flashed in her eyes.  "Is that why you wanted to talk to me?  Thought we could snog and make up, did you?"

        Why was she accusing him of that when she was the one who brought him up to the Astronomy Tower in the first place?  However, he resisted the urge to say that.  Arguing was only going to make things worse.  "I know I've been a complete bastard towards you and I shouldn't have let things go this long without talking to you, but I didn't know how to get you to believe how sorry I was for everything.  Ginny, I swear on my life I would never let myself hurt you like that again."

        Ginny was finding it harder and harder to stay mad at him, seeing how miserable he was.  He was finally making a real effort to fix things with her.  But the stubborn part of her wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily.  He was going to have to do a lot better then a simple apology.  Even if he was able to make up for everything that had happened, she didn't think there was anything he could say to change the decision she had come to three nights ago while lying awake in her bed, silently sobbing into her pillow.

        She hadn't walked out yet, that was something, but Harry was unsure of what to say next.  Suddenly telling her she made him feel too much sounded lame in his own head.  "I don't mean to keep you at a distance.  I know we've shared a lot but it's not always easy for me to open up to you or anyone else.  That's not fair to you, I know, but there's certain things I can't talk about – yet.  But I want to, and it makes it that much harder not to because of how I feel about you.  You make me feel things I didn't know I could.  I don't always show it, but that's because I don't know how."  He swiftly closed the distance between them, cupping her cheek with his hand.  His eyes were burning into hers.  "Ginny, I need you."

        She moved his hand away, feeling the first sting of tears on her cheeks.  He was making this so hard for her.

        The seconds ticked by and she had still said nothing.  The silence was beyond unbearable for Harry.  "Say something, Ginny – anything."

        She was too much of a coward to look at him when she said the words.  She stared down at her own feet instead.  "I think we should break up."

        She heard his sharp intake of breath as he took a step back from her, his entire body going rigid.

        She desperately wanted to reach out to him, but resisted the urge to do so.  "Harry, I'm so sorry."

        "You don't mean that," he said, his hands starting to shake at his sides.  "I know everything's a mess right now, but just give it some time and we'll fix it."

        "Harry, please don't make this any harder," she pleaded through her tears.

        "Well, you got what you wanted, didn't you?" Harry snapped, the first hint of his temper breaking through.  "You wanted me to show a little emotion.  Are you happy now?"

        No, she wasn't happy.  He had just told her everything she had ever needed to hear him say, and now she was breaking his heart in two.  That knowledge made her cry harder.  She couldn't stand there any longer.  She had to get away from him before he changed her mind.  Before he convinced her that she was making the biggest mistake of her life.   Blinking her tears away, she hurried for the doorway.  She was almost free when the sound of his voice made her stop.

        "Please, Ginny.  I – "

        He stood there, his eyes pleading with hers, but he couldn't finish the sentence.  Even if he had been able to say those three words, Ginny wasn't sure if it would have changed anything.  But it was the not knowing that was killing her inside.  If Harry could have taken that final leap, things might have been different, but because he couldn't she left him there.  She ran away from the Astronomy Tower as fast as her feet would carry her, the corridors appearing as a mass of blurs through the tears that kept falling.

The Great Hall was deserted as it always was on Saturday mornings.  Most students took the opportunity to catch up on lost sleep, but not Hermione.  Once she had awaken and let her mind drift to her daunting Arithmancy assignment there was no hope for her to go back to sleep.  She had quickly showered, dressed and then left the still silent Gryffindor Tower for breakfast.

Harry was already at the Gryffindor table when she arrived.  She had taken it as a good sign that neither him nor Ginny had come back before she had gone to bed.  She was hopeful Harry had taken her advice and the two of them had been able to work things out.   Although judging by the way Harry was scowling at his toast, she was starting to consider that might not have been the case at all.

"Morning," she said, hoping she kept her voice from sounding too cheerful.

Harry grunted some incoherent response and kept staring at his plate.

"Are you all right?"  She was dreading the answer, knowing it would not be good.

He brought his head up to look at her, his face devoid of all emotion  "She broke up with me." 

Of all the responses she had been expecting, it had certainly not been that.  She assumed maybe they had another fight, but not this.

"I told her everything about how I feel and about – _everything_, and then she broke up with me."

Her heart ached for him.  He looked a complete wreck.  "Harry, I'm so sorry."

She went to put a comforting hand over his, but he jerked it away.  "You told me I should tell her how I feel otherwise I would lose her," he accused.  "And you know what her exact words were?  Harry, I think we should break up," he said, doing a very poor imitation of Ginny's voice.

"You're right, that's what I told you.  But I never said it would fix everything."

"It just made things worse," he said, sharply.  "She must have known what she was going to say from the beginning, but she just let me blabber on like an idiot.  God, I feel so stupid," he said, taking his hands and raking them through his hair.   "You would think by now I'd be used to rejection.  The Dursley's spent ten years beating it into my skull."

She didn't have anything comforting to say to him, and she wasn't sure she was supposed to.  It was better to let Harry vent.  He didn't do it nearly as often as he should.

She saw him tense as he looked at something passed her shoulder.  She turned in her seat, seeing the source of his discomfort.  Ron and Ginny were walking towards the Gryffindor table.

Hermione turned back around, watching the emptiness in Harry's eyes transform into cold fury.  "Harry – "

He held up a finger to silence her.  "Don't give me any more advice.  You've already done enough."  He quickly rose to his feet, and forcing himself to look straight ahead, managed to leave the Great Hall without having to look at _her_.

Ron slid onto the bench beside Hermione and kissed her good morning.  "What's up his arse this morning?"  He asked, watching Harry's retreating back.

Ginny was far enough down the table that Hermione leaned over and said in a hushed voice, "Ginny broke up with him last night."

Ron's jaw dropped.  "Are you sure?"

She nodded emphatically.  "Harry just told me."

"Bloody hell…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Ginny didn't say anything to you?"

"No.  She didn't look that good, but when I asked her about it she just told me she had trouble sleeping.  I can't believe she wouldn't tell me."

"Don't ask her about it."

"Are you kidding me?  She looks a downright mess.  I want to make sure she's all right."

"I think we should both stay out of it," said Hermione firmly.  "Harry and Ginny are both very private people.  Unless they ask for our help, we should stay out of it."

"You can't expect me not to say anything to Harry," Ron said.  "He's my best mate."

"Just don't force him to tell you anything.  You know how Harry gets when he's forced to talk about things he's not ready to talk about." 

Normally, food was the only thing on Ron's mind first thing in the morning, but the news about Harry and Ginny had diminished his appetite.  He had spent all that time worrying about Harry breaking his sister's heart, he had never stopped to consider it would turn out to be the other way around.

By the time Sunday evening came around, and Harry was still holed up in his room in complete isolation, it was driving Ron to the point where he was sick of having to walk on eggshells around him whenever he went upstairs.  Hermione didn't think they should interfere, and it was one of the rare times he agreed with her, but that didn't mean he was going to keep acting like everything was fine around Harry.  He thought that after all this time he would be used to Harry's sulking around, but he wasn't.  It was made that much harder for Ron to understand because it was over his own sister.  

 Bored to death with studying, Ron rounded up the other Gryffindor boys to take a much-needed break by playing a pickup game of Quidditch outside.  That was his clever excuse for going upstairs and starting a conversation with Harry.

The curtains were closed around Harry's four-poster bed, but Ron knew for a fact that he wasn't sleeping.  He pulled back the curtains, much to Harry's annoyance. 

"What the hell did you do that for?"

Ignoring Harry's sour mood, he said, "we're heading down to the pitch to play a bit of Quidditch.  I thought you might want to come."

Much to Ron's disappointment Harry appeared thoroughly uninterested.  "I've got studying I need to do."

It might have been a little more convincing if he had a textbook or two on his bed, but none of his school things were in sight.

Annoyed that Ron was still standing there, he snapped, "is there anything else?"

Ron almost said no, but he wanted to say what he had come up there to say – whether or not Harry wanted to hear it.  "I'm sorry about what happened with you and Ginny."

"It's for the best," Harry told him.  "It's what you wanted, isn't it?"  

Ron thought back to the sight he had walked in on that day in the locker room, and at the time nothing would have pleased him more than to see Ginny end things with him.  But now, seeing the state of misery Harry had fallen into, he couldn't help but feel sorry for him.  "I never said I wanted you two to break up."

"Well, what's done is done," Harry responded bitterly before looking pleadingly up at Ron.  "Please, Ron, just leave me alone, okay?"

There was no sense in staying and forcing anything more out of him.  He was just bound to get more defensive and the last thing Ron wanted was to start a row with him.  Obeying his friend's wishes, he went to leave.  Before he did though, he said, "I was so worried about you breaking Ginny's heart I didn't stop to think it would be the other way around."

Ron was in the doorway when he heard Harry's barely audible response.

 "She didn't break my heart."

Ron had never been more sure of a lie in his life then he was at that moment.


	18. A Night Out

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:  A Night Out

          "I think you and Harry should do something together."

        Ron defended easily against Hermione's blow aimed at his head.  Swinging back around and kicking out he said, "I thought you said we should leave him alone – wait for him to come to us."

        It was Monday morning, and they were having their first practical lesson on hand-to-hand combat.  The week before Professor Lupin had made them take notes and read several chapters about it before even letting them try it out on a partner.  He had carefully instructed each of them before they began that their intent was not to injure or catch their opponent off guard.  He simply wanted them to test each other's skills and they would go from there.  So far, all was going well.  There had been no accidents aside from the occasional bloody nose from a student who forgot to block in time.  

        "It's not healthy, him brooding over Ginny like this," said Hermione, slightly out of breath from the exertion.  "He barely left the dorm all weekend and he's not in class this morning."

        "I don't think Harry's interested in doing anything."

        "You just have to be more persuasive."

        Ron knew that tone in her voice all to well.  "It sounds like you already have something in mind."

        They chose that moment to break off and take a breather.

        "Why don't you take him into Hogsmeade?"

        Ron nearly had a heart attack – and it had nothing to do with the physical strain from the workout.  "Is Miss Head Girl actually suggesting that _I_ sneak out of the castle, breaking about a dozen school rules in the process – not the least of them being that Hogsmeade is off limits – just to cheer Harry up?"

        "I think given the circumstances it's more than okay."

        "You never cease to amaze me, Hermione," said Ron, grinning at her and shaking his head.  "Every year you've become more and more comfortable with rule breaking.  Maybe it's time Harry and I did an intervention."

        Hermione placed her hands on her hips, looking offended.  "I never said I enjoyed breaking rules.  I just think that sometimes certain allowances need to be made."  

        He could tell by her tone that she did indeed enjoy the occasional rule breaking, and that's why he pressed the matter, hoping to goad her into admitting it.  "You can say whatever you like, but deep down you like all the trouble we get you into.  As much as I know how you love the endless cycle of homework and learning, you'd be bored out of your mind without Harry and me, " he said, winking at her.

        She regained her fighting stance, saying, "I'd have a lot less to worry about without you two around."

        "But you worry so well," he continued to tease.  "It's one of the many qualities I love about you."

        She blushed not just because of what he said, but because anyone nearby could easily overhear their conversation.  They normally weren't so open with their affection for each other in public.  

        "You should come with us to Hogsmeade.  It's not like you haven't snuck out there with us before," said Ron, waggling his eyebrows at her.

        He was enjoying teasing her far too much.  "That was _one _time," she said, her voice taking on a snippy tone.  "Besides, I think you should go alone with Harry.  It would do you both some good to get out and bond a little."

        It sounded like a perfect plan to Ron.  The only obstacle was getting Harry to agree to it – but Ron didn't plan on giving his friend a choice in the matter.  

        It was after eleven when Ginny ventured down to the common room.  You wouldn't have been able to tell it was a school night with the amount of students still up.  It consisted of sixth and seventh years mainly, writing furiously on parchment to finish homework, or those with their faces buried in textbooks studying for the upcoming end of term finals.

        It came as no surprise when she saw the trio was still up.  Harry and Ron – especially Ron – would usually be in bed by now, leaving Hermione alone with her work.  But the grueling workload was forcing all three of them to stay up late.

Ron was starting to nod off in his chair, and Hermione, who could usually out study them all, was resting her head against Ron's shoulder, trying to read through her assortment of notes.  Only Harry seemed wide-awake.  His eyes were quickly scanning the passages in front of him, before he flipping the page. 

        Unable to sleep, she had the foolish idea that if she came down to the common room and found Harry still awake that maybe she would have a chance of talking with him – of making him _understand_.  Understand what, she hadn't thought that far ahead, but she couldn't take looking at him anymore, seeing the constant anguish in his eyes – directed solely at her.  

She was barely seated at their table when Harry stood up and announced he was going to bed.  He hurriedly packed up his school things and proceeded to take the staircase up to his dorm.  Hermione moved her head off Ron's shoulder to give a sympathetic look, and even her brother, who she was barely speaking to her these days, glanced at her in a way that showed he truly did feel sorry for her.

        Even armed with the knowledge that it would likely turn out to be one, gigantic mistake, she went after Harry.

        He made it up to the first landing when she called out to him – but he kept walking.

        "Harry, please wait."

        He stopped walking but kept his back to her.  "Didn't you hear me down there?  I said I was going to bed."

        The coldness in his voice chilled her.  "I'm sorry I hurt you."  She didn't know what else to say to him.  She knew it wasn't much, but it had never been easy figuring out things to say to Harry.

        "The only thing that hurts," he started, turning around, his eyes cold as ice, "is that I thought I meant something to you, which I obviously don't."

        This was becoming a lot harder for her to handle.  He thought _she_ didn't care, when that couldn't be farther from the truth.  "How can you think that?  I never wanted things to end up like this."

        "Then tell me why you broke up with me," he demanded.  "You never gave me any explanations."

        "I did it because we both needed it."

        "That's not an answer."

        "Contrary to popular belief, the universe does not revolve around the Great Harry Potter.  Not every girl around here wants to go out with The Boy Who Lived."

        Fighting with him was the absolutely last thing she had wanted to happen.  But with the way their relationship had ended, it was hard for Harry not to harbor some resentment towards her, and for Ginny in turn to lash back out at him.  

        "This whole relationship was a mistake," said Harry, his tone harsh.  "I don't I know how I ever thought it would work.  You're just some silly little girl who's been infatuated with the _Great_ Harry Potter her entire life."

        He turned and stormed up the reminder of the stairs, and not caring if some of his dorm mates were already asleep, slammed the door behind him.

        Harry rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, trying to get the page in front of him to come into focus – for all the good it did.  The _Quick Wizard's Guide to First Aid_ didn't appear to be much more than a jumble of incoherent words to him, but he forced himself to keep reading.  He was almost certain he had not done too well on his last Defense Against the Dark Arts test, so he needed a decent mark on the simple healing spells assignment.  Not to mention he still had some last minute revising he needed to do for his Astronomy test in the morning.  

        Reading was made impossible though, when his black cloak was thrown over top of his open text.

        Irritated, he looked up to see Ron standing there with his own cloak fastened over his shoulders, griining down at him.

        "What are you waiting for an invitation?  Put it on."

        "I don't know what you have in mind," said Harry, tossing the cloak aside, "but I've got a ton of reading to do."

        "You can skip it tonight because we're going out."

        Before Harry could yell at him to get out, Ron grabbed his text and put it over on the dresser.

        "Hey!"  Harry protested.  He went to grab for it but Ron was faster and shoved his cloak into his arms.

        "I'm not giving you a choice.  You can either come with me peacefully or we can do this the hard way."

        "Where are we going anyways?"

        "Hogsmeade,"

        "Ron, Hogsmeade's off limits.  Besides, it's after dark, we'll get in trouble if anyone catches us sneaking out."

        Ron rolled his eyes.  "Since when did you turn into Hermione?"  

        Harry made a face.  "I don't want to go."

        "Too bad."

        Ignoring the rest of Harry's protests, Ron pushed him into the hallway.

        They got some suspicious looks on their way to the portrait hole wearing their heavy winter cloaks, but no one said a word.  Even Hermione barely acknowledged them as they passed, and as hard as it was for Harry to believe she would ever agree to them sneaking off into the night, he had the nagging suspicion she had been in on this.  

        They made it through the castle's halls without running into any teachers doing after curfew patrols.  Peeves the Poltergeist almost caught them when they were at the front doors, but they had quickly hid behind a suit of armor until he was gone.

        Once they were outside, Harry stopped completely and turned on Ron.  "I'm not going a step further until you tell me what's going on."

        "Nothing's going on.  We're just going to have some fun, is all."

        Harry wasn't buying that for a second.  "And Hermione saw us walk by with our cloaks on and didn't bat an eyelash?"

        "We both thought you've been moping around long enough and could do with a change of scenery," he admitted finally.

        "Hermione agreed to us sneaking into Hogsmeade?"

        Ron grinned broadly.  "Our Head Girl is just full of surprises."

        Harry wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea of his two best friends plotting together without his knowledge, but he had been looking for an excuse to get away from Hogwarts for some time now, so he might as well take advantage of this opportunity.  Without any further protests, he followed after Ron and the two of them made the trek to Hogsmeade.

        Hogsmeade certainly wasn't the sight it used to be.  Since the Death Eater attack a lot of the shops had closed up and moved their businesses elsewhere, or had restricted their hours of service to during the day.  One of the few establishments still willing to accommodate visitors until the early hours of the morning was the Three Broomsticks.  

        Ron pulled the refurbished wooden door open and they walked inside.  Immediately the aroma of smoke, alcohol, and a variety of other things Harry couldn't quite identify attacked his senses.  It was an entirely different place from the one they were used to seeing during their daytime Hogsmeade visits.  Besides Ron and himself, no one looked to be under twenty-five.  Patrons were shouting at each other and music from some band that Harry didn't recognize seemed to be blaring from every corner.

        Ron had to shout to be heard over the rowdy customers.  "Come on," he yelled to Harry, indicating towards the bar.

        They squeezed themselves through the pack of people at the front of the bar.  The crowd seemed to consist of mostly wizards ordering concoctions that Harry couldn't even fathom a guess as to what was in them.

        Ron waved down the shabby looking wizard tending the bar.  "Two butterbeers – " 

        "Just one.  I'll have a shot of Firewhiskey," Harry cut in.

        While the bartender left to get their order, Ron turned an eyebrow up at Harry.

        Harry interpreted the look, saying, "hey, you're the one who said I needed to get out.  I'm just making the most of it."

        When the wizard returned with their drinks a minute later, Ron watched Harry down his shot in one go, and a single thought entered his mind: _Hermione's going to kill me_.

        Seven shots of fire whiskey later, that thought was even more pressing in Ron's mind while he dragged Harry out of the Three Broomsticks, who kept stumbling every few steps. 

        Ron knew it probably wasn't fair to take advantage of his friend's current state, but he needed to know what had happened between him and his sister.  So far, Harry had refused the few attempts made to get him to open up on the matter.  He probably wouldn't remember much – if any – of what he said in the morning.

        "Harry, what happened with you and Ginny?"

        Harry whirled around, his footing faltering slightly before he recovered.  "Why is everyone so desperate to find that out?"   

        "She's my sister and you're my best friend, is that enough of a reason?"

        "I can't be the person she needs me to be.  Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

        He started walking again and Ron jogged to catch up with him.  There was still one more thing he had to ask.  "That day before the match, when I saw you and Ginny like that, what would you have done if I hadn't showed up?"  He held his breath, anxiously awaiting Harry's response.  One of the answers would result in Ron having to drag his bloody corpse back to Hogwarts.  

        Harry's expression was blank as he tried to remember what Ron was talking about.  When it looked like he figured it out, he turned away from Ron.  "I never meant to take things that far.  I couldn't help myself – but I would have stopped.  Ron, I would never do that to her."

        Ron felt relief at Harry's words.  Harry's response was good enough for him.  Shame filled him for thinking even for a second that Harry's intentions would be otherwise.

        Harry was suddenly clutching his arm saying, "Ginny's this amazing person.  She makes me feel like I'm better then I really am.  She always wants to help and the only thing she ever asked for in return I couldn't give her.  I _need_ her.  I need her so bad it hurts."

        "Er, um, that – that's more then I needed to know, Harry," Ron stammered.  It was great that Harry was opening up to him, but there was no need to get so detailed.  Ginny was his sister after all.

        "I was such a prat," Harry went on, not hearing Ron's words at all.  "She gave me so many chances and I blew them all!  It took me six bloody years to open my eyes and notice her, and now look how I've screwed everything up.  I tried staying away from her, Ron, I really did, but Ginny, she's so – so –"

        "Amazing, I know," said Ron, feeling himself growing rather nauseous.    

        Somehow in his drunken state, Harry realized he had revealed too much and clamped his mouth shut.  Something Ron was extremely grateful for.  If he had to listen to Harry use any more gushing adjectives to describe his sister he was going to be sick right there.

        In silence, Ron helped him stagger back to the school, which in itself was difficult because every so often Harry would lose his balance completely and Ron would have to grab the back of his shirt to keep him from falling.

        From the time they entered the castle to when they were walking down the hallway leading to Gryffindor Tower, Ron silently promised to spend the remainder of the term studying vigilantly and stop teasing Hermione about her never ending quest to achieve a perfect grade in every subject if no one caught them.

        Someone seemed to hear his request because he muttered the password to the Fat Lady (who was shaking her head disapprovingly at them) and he and Harry entered the common room, safe at last.

        "Ron?"  He heard a sleepy voice say. 

He jumped at the sound of his name, and noticed Hermione curled up on the sofa by the fire.  She was in her dressing gown and looked to have been dozing, but instantly became alert upon seeing Harry stumble over and all but fall on the sofa beside her.

She shot Ron her steeliest gaze.  "You got him drunk?"

"Hey, it wasn't my idea," he said in his defense.  "Harry was acting of his own free will."

"I was," Harry chimed in.  "I only had - " He tried to remember how many shots of whatever it was he had, but his brain was numb and wouldn't function properly.  "I don't really remember how much I drank," he said laughing.

"I think it's safe to say you passed your limit, Harry," Hermione said, still glaring daggers at Ron.

"You should have come with us," Harry slurred, patting her leg.  "You could have worn that skirt.  You know, the blue one that shows of your legs."

She couldn't believe she was sitting there, listening to Harry hit on her with Ron standing a few feet away – who was struggling not to laugh!  Harry was definitely more than a little drunk.  He would never say those things to her otherwise.

Extracting Harry's hand from her leg, she stood up and announced she was going to bed.  She refused to look at Ron, until he ran in front and blocked her path to the staircase.

"You're not mad, are you?  You have to admit it's funny listening to Harry talk to you like that."

"Ron, Harry's having enough trouble coping and drowning his sorrows isn't going to make everything better.  I thought as his best friend you'd be looking out for him."

"Oh, come off it, Hermione.  Give the guy a break.  There's nothing wrong with Harry going out and enjoying himself.  If you ask me it's better then him sitting up in that room like a hermit."

"Well, I'm glad you and Harry had such a great time bonding," she bit out sarcastically.  "Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to bed."

Ron allowed himself to be pushed aside.  He didn't see a point to pushing the matter.  Anything else that came out of his mouth would probably just make her angrier.  

"I think she's a little mad," said Harry, watching her disappear up the stairs.  "Is it because of the skirt thing?"

Ron wanted to say he thought she was mad in general, but didn't incase she was still listening at the top of the stairs – she'd done that to him on more than one occasion, and there had always been hell to pay afterwards.

He made his mind up then that he wasn't going to grovel for her forgiveness because he had nothing to be sorry for.  He took his best friend out for a good time like the original plan, and there was no way he was going to apologize for getting Harry's mind off his sister for a little while.  

         There was nothing more Harry wanted to do then keep his eyes shut and sleep forever.  But the insistent shaking and calling of his name would not allow that to happen.

        "Harry, you've got to get up."

        More shaking.

        "We've got our Astronomy test in less than an hour."

        "Let me know how it goes," Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.

        When he felt the covers being hauled off of him, he finally dared to open his eyes.  Ron was standing over him, looking apologetic.

        "Sorry, mate, but you've got to get up."

        With much difficulty, Harry swung his legs over the bed and grabbed his head with his hands, trying to make the pounding stop.  He noticed he was still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday.  "Why?"

        "Because this is the last test before the midterm and if you don't write it you'll screw yourself for next semester."

        At the moment, Harry could care less about the next semester.  He was thinking it wasn't going to do him much good anyways if he couldn't even hold a quill, but his head hurt too much to argue, so he said, "you sound like Hermione – except for the profanity."

        "Speaking of our favourite Head Girl, you gave her quite a shock last night.  I can't remember the last time I saw her blush like that."

        Harry stared at him blankly.  "What are you talking about?"

        "You really don't remember?"

        Harry shook his head before he could stop himself.  He had to grab the sides of his head to stop the room from spinning.

        "Let's just say she knows how much you like that little blue skirt of hers.  Should I be worried that you think my girlfriend has nice legs?"

        Harry buried his face in his hands, groaning inwardly.  "I really said those things?"

        Ron was laughing now, much to Harry's annoyance.  He found nothing humorous in the fact that he had made a complete drunken ass of himself in front of Hermione. 

        "Did I say or do anything else I should be aware of?"

        Ron suddenly went very quiet.

        "It can't possibly be any worse then what happened with Hermione, so just tell me already."

        "You talked a bit about Ginny."

        By now Harry was starting to recall pieces of the night before, and he felt his face grow warm as he remembered just exactly what he had revealed to Ron.  Wishing to avoid any further embarrassment he quickly changed the subject.  "Have you talked to Hermione this morning?"

        "Tried to, but she refuses to speak to me."  Ron gave an indifferent shrug.  "It's Hermione.  She'll get over it in a couple of days." 

        Harry thought as much, but that didn't make him feel any better about the two of them getting into a fight over him.  "I'm going to have a shower and I'll meet you downstairs," Harry told him.

        Ron regarded him skeptically.  "You sure you're not going to go back to sleep?"

        "Yes, I'm sure.  Now, go."

        After Ron had disappeared, and Harry somehow found the strength to get to his feet, he wobbled on two unsteady legs to the bathroom.  He wasn't sure how he managed to undress and get into the shower stall, being as sick as he felt, but he managed.  This time he was in the shower for an unmentionable amount of time because he didn't have the energy to drag himself out.  When he finally got out, he stumbled back to his dorm and threw on his school clothes.  He didn't even attempt to do up his tie, leaving it hanging around his neck.  When he found both shoes and had them on the right feet, he left the dormitory.

        Only a few students still lingered in the common room.  Most were already at breakfast or in the process of hurrying to get ready.  He found Hermione sitting alone at a table with her Astronomy text open in front of her, no doubt trying to cram some last bit of knowledge into her brain.  The disapproving look on her face when she saw him didn't stop Harry from going over and sitting with her.

        "I hope you've studied," she said, keeping her face buried in her book.  "Professor Sinistra said it would be very challenging."

        He put his elbows on the table and held his face up with his hands.  "Even if I had I don't think I'd remember anything of what I'd studied,"

        She frowned into her book but stayed quiet.

        "I'm sorry about the skirt thing," he said, feeling rather awkward.  "I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind last night."

        He watched a light shade of pink creep into her cheeks, but she still wouldn't speak.

"If you want to be angry with me, that's fine.  But don't take it out on Ron."

        "You're right, why should I stay mad at him just because he took you out to get smashed?"  She said, finally tearing her gaze away from the book.

        "It wasn't like that.  I needed to blow off some steam so I had a few drinks."

        She huffed at the 'few drinks' part.  "If you have to drink to forget about Ginny – "

        Harry moaned.  Not everything he did was because of Ginny Weasley.  "Hermione, please, I don't need a lecture.  I feel like shit and every time I move my head I feel like I'm going to throw up."

        She bit her lip, contemplating whether or not to reveal that she could provide relief from his hangover.  In the end, the side of her that hated seeing him suffering won out.  After all, she had used the potion once before to cure Ron of his hangover courtesy of the twins taking him out to celebrate his seventeenth birthday.  "I could help." 

        She had his undivided attention.  "Really? How?"

        "There's a potion you can take that will get rid of the nausea and headache."

        "How do I get it?"

        "I have everything I need up in my room.  It'll take about ten minutes to make."

        Then she was gone, returning almost exactly ten minutes later, a small beaker filled with a dark green liquid in one of her hands.  Harry almost felt better just by looking at it.  He reached for it but Hermione wasn't so quick to hand it over.

        "Harry, this is a one time thing, remember that.  I told Ron the same thing after Fred and George got him completely smashed on his birthday.  And he knows better then to ever ask me to make it again."  She didn't bother adding that he could easily look up sobering spells in almost any book on cures for magical and muggle illnesses.  

        After giving her his word at least a dozen times that he would never ask her to make it again _and_ be a bit more responsible the next time, she handed the beaker over to him.  He swallowed every disgusting last drop of it, vaguely aware of how every potion Hermione had made him drink of the years always ended up tasting revolting.  

        "It takes a few minutes to start working," she told him.

        As she said it, he could already feel his stomach rumbling at the strange liquid he had put in it, but he didn't feel nauseous anymore.  Maybe now he wouldn't fail his Astronomy test – he would just do really poorly.  Regardless, he silently promised himself that it would be a long time before he even looked at another alcoholic drink.  

I finally have a homework free weekend!!!  So, everyone keep your fingers crossed that I'll have Chapter 19 ready to go in the next couple of days.   


	19. Home For The Holidays

A/N:  I know the recent chapters have been kind've heavy in the drama and angst department, so the next couple will focus on the Christmas Holidays, and will hopefully be a bit lighter for the most part – but don't expect things to stay that way for too long.  Enjoy!

CHAPTER NINETEEN:  Home for the Holidays

        Snow had been falling since dawn, making the train ride back to platform nine and three quarters all the more enjoyable.  With the winter holidays just having started, it felt more like Christmas at that moment then the entire month of December at Hogwarts.  Enchanted decorations and Christmas trees couldn't compare at that moment to the feeling of going home for an entire two-week break.  The cheerful moods of students scurrying to find their luggage and families was contagious.  Even Harry, who had been an avid grinch since the start of the holiday season, found it hard to stay in a dark mood with everything going on around him.  It would be the first time he would get to celebrate Christmas with Sirius.  Since fifth year he had been spending the holidays with the Weasley's, and as much as he enjoyed his time there, he was looking forward to spending his first Christmas morning with his godfather, the only member of his family he had left.

        "Oi!  Do you think you packed enough?"  Ron remarked, carrying Hermione's trunk out onto the platform.  "The holidays are only two weeks, _not_ two months."

        "I only packed essentials," she said to him.

        "If I open this and find out 'essentials' are really a bunch of musty old books that are giving me a hernia, you're dragging your own trunk back here in January."

        "If I recall correctly, you were the one who insisted that I let you carry my luggage," she said, smiling sweetly at him.

        Ron's face reddened slightly.  "Yeah, well, that was, um in the heat of the moment," he said, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

        Harry tried to mask his laughter by turning it into a cough, but Ron wasn't fooled by it.

        "Keep laughing, Harry, and I'll make you carry _all_ her things at the end of the school year."

        Harry's laughter came to an immediate halt.  He did not want to find out if that threat was valid

        "Harry might have to help you anyways," said Hermione, wearing a wry grin.  "Think of all the books I'd be bringing home then."

        Both Ron and he groaned at that statement.

        "As much as I love Hogwarts," Hermione began, stepping between them and linking her arms through both of theirs, "It's a nice change to come home for awhile."

        "Because there's nothing more exciting then studying in a different place," said Ron, his voice completely serious.

        Harry and Ron shared a chuckle, while Hermione swatted at his arm.  That small display was the closest they had come to an argument in recent weeks.  Harry assumed they had toned down on their rows for his sake.  It was odd to see them not challenging one another or at each other's throats over things normal people would simply ignore.  It showed him a deeper level of their relationship that he had always figured existed, but didn't think they would ever show.  He'd had comments from other Gryffindors – and even other houses – wanting to know if he had put some sort of spell on them.  However indirectly he had caused this change in behaviour, he was secretly glad about it.

        "Harry!"

        Turning, Harry saw Sirius jogging towards them, grinning like a madman.  Before Harry even had a chance to process his appearance, his godfather's arms were around him, enfolding him in a huge bear hug.

        "Sirius, oxygen is starting to become an issue," Harry said, still locked in his godfather's embrace.

        Sirius immediately let go.  Still grinning, he tousled Harry's hair.  "I was starting to wonder if you had decided to stay in that drafty castle instead of with me."

        "The weather slowed things down a bit," Hermione spoke up.

        "Where are my manners?  It's good to see you and Ron again," Sirius said, hugging Hermione and shaking Ron's hand.  Afterwards, he regarded them both curiously.  "You two seem different somehow."

        Ron and Hermione gave embarrassed smiles, but Harry was the one who spoke.  "I think they're on a strike from rowing."

        "Has anyone placed bets on how long this is going to last?"  Sirius teased.

        "Sirius!"  Hermione exclaimed in mock indignation.

        Sirius merely shrugged his shoulders in an innocent gesture.  "Better say your goodbye's now Harry, or we'll miss the start of the match."

        Harry had almost forgotten Sirius had got tickets to the Puddlemere against Wimbourne Wasps match.  All Puddlemere needed was a thirty point win to move back into second place in the Quidditch champions league.  Sirius had also gotten a hold of tickets to a Chudley Cannons game on Christmas Eve.  Ron had talked about nothing else for days after when Harry had invited him to come to the game.

        "Have a good time, mate," Ron said to him, "and don't forget you're coming by The Burrow after to relay every detail to me.  Doesn't matter what time it is."

        They shook hands, too embarrassed to hug in front of a train station full of people.  Unlike the two of them, Hermione wasn't afraid to display her emotions.  She hugged Harry tightly, and it didn't feel like a simple good bye at all.

        "I'll see you tomorrow, you know," he said, a little surprised at how strong her grip was.  It must have been all the training since September.

        "I know," she said, easing up.  "Enjoy the match."

        When the final goodbyes were out of the way, Sirius and Harry departed.

Now, Christmas vacation could officially start.

        Harry had learned over the years that every Quidditch match – including the friendly ones – were a fierce battle right to the end.  The fans treated it the same way.  They were loud and shouted things that Harry was sure would have given Mrs. Weasley a stroke had she ever come to one.  

        When he and Sirius found their seats (high up and near the visiting teams' defensive end), the stadium was near capacity, with the last few fans scrambling to find their seats before the start of the match.

        "The Wasps haven't beat Puddlemere at home in three years," said Sirius, cracking open his butterbeer.

        Harry opened his own butterbeer, saying, "but the Wasps are on a winning streak right now.  They rolled over the Tornados last week, and Puddlemere hasn't been doing all that great since Oliver Wood got injured."

        "Did you want to grab some dinner after the match?  We could try that new place over on Sutton before you go to Ron's."

        "I thought I might unpack a bit first."

        "We could go after you unpack," Sirius suggested.

        Harry regarded his godfather suspiciously.  "I'm starting to think that between you and my friends I won't get a minute alone these holidays."

        "It's just that you won't be home again 'til summer holidays.  You should try and have a good time with your friends."

        Harry knew that wasn't it at all – and he called Sirius on it.  "That's not the real reason, Sirius, and you know it."

        "Well, I'm sorry if I don't want to see you spend the next two weeks sulking around, feeling sorry for yourself."

        Harry frowned into his butterbeer.  "That's not funny."

        "It wasn't meant to be.  I know these past couple of months have been rough for you – and it won't get any easier when you go back – but that doesn't mean you lock yourself in a room and stop living."  

        "Sirius – "

        "I didn't plan on having this conversation here, but now seems to be as good a time as any," he went on.  "You're miserable and depressed and it's time you stopped punishing yourself for things that are beyond your control.  I think you should talk to someone."

        Harry almost laughed.  "Are you serious?  You want me to talk to a shrink?"

        "I thought it might be easier for you to confide in someone who doesn't know you.  You won't even talk about what happened with Ginny– "

        Harry held up a hand to stop him.  "Because there's nothing to say," he cut in, growing irritated.  "I hurt her, she hurt me, and it's over now.  I wish everyone would just let it go already.  It was a mistake I don't plan on making again."

        "This entire bravado attitude of yours sucks, Harry.  It really does," Sirius commented, shaking his head.

        "I won't go," Harry stated firmly, and his tone told his godfather there was no room for discussion on the matter.

        "And I can't make you.  I just wanted to make you aware of your options."

        At that moment the announcer came on, introducing the starting lineup for the Wasps.  There were some cheers and boos from the stands, but the reaction was nothing compared to the roaring applause and whistling when Puddlemere flew out on the brooms and were introduced.  Harry was almost certain Oliver would be somewhere in the stands, cheering his team on.

By the time the match started, he wasn't speaking to Sirius and had lost most of his interest in the game going on in front of him.  Only hours before he had been so eager to spend a whole two weeks with his godfather, but now that he knew Sirius thought he needed counseling, the end of Christmas holidays couldn't come fast enough for Harry.

        "What do you think?"

        "It's nice enough," Harry observed, looking around the flat.  Nice was an understatement, really.  The floors were covered with carpet and the kitchen already had the appliances in it.  All in all it was a pretty decent-sized space for one or two people.  "But since when did you decide to move out of the Burrow?"

        "I'm not moving out yet," Ron corrected his friend.  "But I figured since we'll be done Hogwarts this year, I should start looking for a place.  Fred and George will be moving out in a few months, and I really don't want to be stuck there anymore."

        Harry stopped himself just short of saying Ginny would still be there.  She still had one year at Hogwarts left.

        "The kitchen's a bit small," Hermione commented, coming back out into the living room where the two boys were.

        "It's not like I'm going to be spending much time in there anyways," he said, slipping an arm around her waist.

        "Does the owner know you wouldn't be moving in until the summer?" Harry asked him.

        "She's willing to hold it if we put a deposit down."

        "_We_?"

        "Obviously.  There's no way I could afford a place like this on my own."

Harry suddenly felt rather stupid.  How naïve he had been.  He thought Ron had brought him and Hermione along to show them the flat he wanted to rent out, but he was really moving in with Hermione, and they wanted his opinion.  "I think you'll both be really happy here."

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks before turning back to Harry.

"Harry, I'm not moving in with Ron," Hermione said, a smile tugging at her lips.  "I don't think we're ready for that yet."

He was very confused.  "Then – so you want me to be your roommate?" 

"Of course, you daft git!  I thought since we've shared the same room for the last seven years, it would be obvious.  I mean you don't snore, you're relatively clean – do I need to go on?"

Harry stood there in stunned silence.  "Wow, Ron… I really don't know what to say."

"I hope it's yes because I kind've already told the land lady we'd take the place," Ron said, grinning sheepishly.  "We just have to sign the lease to make it official."   

        Ron was grinning from ear to ear, and Harry couldn't help but follow suit.  "I guess you're stuck with me as a roommate for a little longer,"

        "This is going to be great, Harry," said Ron, slapping his friend on the shoulder with enthusiasm.  "I'll go tell the land lady so she can get the lease papers ready."

        He gave Hermione a quick energetic kiss, which caused Harry to take a sudden interest in the carpet, before he flew out the door.

        "I think that was the best Christmas present you could have given him," Hermione said afterwards.

        Harry gestured to the walls around them.  "Did you know about this?"  

        She gave a small shrug, unable to keep the smile off her face.  "Maybe," she said a little too innocently.

        "It's definitely at a good location," Harry remarked, suddenly overwhelmed with the excitement at the prospect of having his own place.  "We're about a five minute's walk from London – which means Ron can pop in on you when you're hard at work at the ministry."

        "Yeah, at the ministry," she echoed a little less than half-heartedly.

        "Are you still worried you're not going to get the posting you want?  Hermione, I've seen the owls come flying in on a daily basis from the ministry offering every available position – even some that are already filled.  You've got nothing to worry about."

        "I've got everything to worry about."

        "You've already started reviewing for N.E.W.T.S.  You could probably write the examination tomorrow and pass with flying colours."

        "I'm not worried about them."

        That was a relief to hear.  She'd started studying for them ages ago, so there was no reason for her to be panicking.  "What's bothering you then?"

        She looked like she very much wanted to tell him but something was holding her back.  "Hermione, I'm your best friend – and I know I don't always act like it, but you can talk to me about anything.  You know that, right?"

        She nodded, but still refused to say anything.  She looked to be struggling through some sort of inner battle of whether or not to tell him.  

        "Not all the owls have come from the ministry here," she said at last.  "Some have come from outside England."

        That made sense.  He assumed any magical institution with half a brain would be dying to get her to work for them.

        "I applied to some of those out of country institutions," she admitted.  "Back when school started and Ron and I were having that stupid, drawn-out fight, I was so mad at him that I filled out application forms for the ministries in Switzerland, Greece, even Australia – and I sent them in.  I never planned on seriously considering any of them even if they wanted me."

        "But you _are_ considering them, aren't you?"  Harry gently probed.

        "Not seriously, no.  I just have more options now.  I haven't heard back from any of them – and they're just long shots anyways.  I'd never actually leave here for a job."

        "It sounds to me like you've done a bit more than consider the possibility of leaving."

        "Maybe I have, but that doesn't mean I will."

        "Because of Ron?"

        By now, Hermione was looking completely flustered.  "How can I leave him after everything that's happened?  It took us so long to get to where we are now.  I can't justify leaving just for some job."

        "We both know it's not 'some job'.  And the Hermione Granger I know wouldn't give up her dreams and everything she's worked so hard for for anyone.  Even if that person is someone she loves."

        Hermione moved to a sitting position on the floor, leaning against the wall.  "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

        "Yes, you do," said Harry joining her on the floor.  "You came over here with your mind already made up, and you were hoping I'd talk you out of it – that I'd give you a million reasons why you should stay, but I can't do that.  I don't want you to leave anymore then Ron will, but you have all this talent and potential – don't throw it away.  And don't settle for less than you deserve."

        "I hope you haven't changed your mind, Harry," came Ron's voice from the doorway.  "The contract's been drawn up.  All we have to do is go downstairs and sign.  What's wrong?"  He looked from Harry to Hermione, not knowing what to make of their expressions, but they looked like they had been having an intense conversation before he had walked in.

        "Nothing," Harry said, tearing his gaze away from Hermione and jumping to his feet.  "Hermione's just worried once we move in together we'll forget all about her."

        "That'll never happen," Ron assured her, holding out a hand to help her to her feet.  "You'll probably be here every day, nagging us to clean up after ourselves."

        Usually, Hermione would have come up with some witty retort, but she merely smiled weakly at him, and that told Ron there was definitely something wrong.  He would be sure to ask her about it later when they were alone.

        Harry didn't know how he made it through the signing of the lease or lunch without Ron figuring out he was hiding something from him.  He didn't know how Hermione could keep the act up either.  He hated when people pitied him, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for Ron.  He had no idea the woman he loved since forever was on the verge of considering leaving the country.  As much as it would kill Ron to let her go, Harry hoped he would be able to.


	20. Not Quite Over You

CHAPTER TWENTY:  Not Quite Over You

        It was fairly late when the Chudley Cannons match ended and Harry, Ron and Hermione caught the portkey back that landed them in relatively close proximity to The Burrow. 

The night air was cold and trudging through the snow for almost twenty minutes was enough to make the three of them well aware of the freezing atmosphere surrounding them.  But despite the cold, they were in high spirits. 

        Ron had originally devised a plan to trick Hermione into coming with them, but she had completely surprised him by agreeing to come along when he asked her on his first try.  She said wasn't really interested if it wasn't him or Harry playing, but it was better then sitting alone in the Weasley home on Christmas Eve.  Ron had mentally slapped himself for momentarily forgetting that she would not get to see her parents at all during the holidays.

Before going back to Hogwarts in September Hermione had tried to make her parents understand that it would be safer for all of them if she not have any contact with them during the school year.  Her parents had considered pulling her out of Hogwarts completely when they had learned of the dangers she might be facing, and it was only through the assurances of Remus Lupin and Mrs. Weasley, along with a very persuasive letter from Dumbledore, that finally convinced her parents to allow her to continue her schooling.  

        So this year there had been no need for Ron to write his mother and ask if Hermione could stay with them.  His mother had written _him_ wanting to be sure that he was bringing Hermione to The Burrow, and then writing him a second time, outlining extensively the living arrangements Ron was to abide by during her stay there.

Though he knew it was not nearly the same as being around her own family, he planned on giving her a Christmas she would never forget.  That would happen as soon as his excitement died down from the Cannons match they had just come from.

"Tell me that was not the best bloody match ever!"  He exclaimed, thumping his fist in the air for emphasis.  "Now that's the Cannons team I've been rooting for all these years."

        "If the other Seeker hadn't been thrown off his broom by that bludger – " 

When Harry caught sight of the dark look Ron was sending his way, as if daring him to ruin this moment of glory for him, he let the unfinished sentence hang in the air and shrugged.

"Is that the second match they've won all season?"

Ron turned his dark look on Hermione.  "They've won more than two matches, Hermione!"  

She arched an eyebrow up at him.  "So exactly how many have they won then?"

"That's not the point," he answered, dismissively, wanting to avoid at all costs saying that the Cannons were having another dismal year.  "The point is that people like you and Harry need to have a bit more faith in the Cannons.  They actually have a chance at – "

"Finishing in the cellar like every other year," Harry interjected, smirking, and Hermione laughed.

Ron punched him hard in the shoulder and gave Hermione a wounded look.  "I can't believe I hang around you nonbelievers."

Hermione stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.  "At least Harry and I are realistic."

Ron considered saying something, then thought better of it and closed his mouth.  There was no way he could win this argument with Harry and Hermione siding against him like they always did when it came to his favourite Quidditch team.  He concentrated instead on walking up the path that led to the front door of his home, grateful to finally be inside somewhere warm.

Hermione thought about teasing him some more – he deserved it, considering how often he did it to her about school – but she controlled herself.  She and Harry had done enough Cannons banishing for one day.  Besides, she thought she should do her best to keep Ron in a good mood.  Tonight she was going to casually bring up the subject of Switzerland, and try to get a feel for what his reaction might be.  Nothing was written in stone, but Harry had been right when he had she had done a bit more then consider the possibility.  She really did want to go, and of all her options abroad, she was most interested in the Swiss ministry by far.  Many of the magical positions there were not even available at the ministry in England.

The trio walked in the door and found Mrs. Weasley bustling around inside the kitchen with Ginny.  She took in the sight of their three rosy faces and immediately summoned three steaming mugs onto the table.  

"You three must be freezing.  Have a cup of hot chocolate.  I don't want any of you catching a cold," she said to them.

"Thanks, mum," said Ron pulling out a chair from the table.  Hermione took a seat beside him, but Harry remained standing in the doorway.

"I should get going," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting towards the door.  "Sirius is probably expecting me."

He was able to talk his way out of taking the floo system in the Weasley fireplace back to his godfather's house, saying it would only be a short walk to Sirius'.  No one seemed keen on the idea to let him walk home on his own, and Harry didn't have the heart to tell them he didn't think there would be any danger lurking on this particular night.  He had to promise to contact them the second he arrived at Sirius'.  

He'd only gone a few paces from the house when he heard the screen door open behind him.

"Harry."

He felt obliged to stop at hearing Ginny's voice.  Especially when he turned to see she had only thrown an old thin robe on over her clothes and looked to be freezing.  He would have offered her his cloak but that meant he was committing himself to staying longer.

"I was just heading up to bed.  You don't have to leave," she said, running her hands up and down her arms in an effort to keep warm.

"I should get going anyways.  Sirius will start worrying."

"Harry – "

"Ginny, we don't have to this conversation.  Really, I'm fine."  As strange as it was, he meant it.

She watched his face for any signs that indicated otherwise, but if there was he was keeping them well hidden.  "We're coming to Sirius' tomorrow for Christmas dinner."

"I know," Harry said, his breath coming out in puffs of gray smoke.  The prospect of spending a day with her was not nearly as daunting as it had been a week ago.    

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," he echoed, giving a slight nod of his head.  "Goodnight, Ginny."

He started walking again, feeling as if an odd weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  That was the first cordial conversation he'd had with her in quite some time.  It hadn't been much; then again, he hadn't put a whole lot of effort into it.  But it was a start.  He couldn't hate her forever.  He had already tried that with little success.  He was through sulking around like some pathetic school-kid though.  Ginny was completely out of his system – or at least as much as she was ever going to be – and that thought comforted him on the walk home.

After five minutes ticked by and Ginny had still not returned, Hermione began contemplating whether or not she should check on her.  Since their breakup, Harry and Ginny's interactions often involved heated rows or looks of fury being thrown back and forth.  Harry had finally started cheering up when they'd left Hogwarts for the holidays, that she was afraid he might completely lose whatever progress he had made.  

For the moment, however, she had her own dilemma to focus on and pushed thoughts of Harry's well being out of her mind.  Ron's mum had left them alone and now seemed to be as good a time as any to broach the subject of another country to him.  She did not want to deceive him but she needed to get some feel for where he stood.  

"What do you think of Switzerland?"  She tried to ask as nonchalantly as she could.

"Switzerland?"  He took a sip from his mug and regarded her oddly.  "Sounds like a bloody cold place to me, with all that snow they get."

She chose her words carefully not wanting to give too much away.  "I think if you lived there you would get used to it."  

"It's pretty far," he noted offhandedly, before giving her another strange look.  "Why are you asking me about it anyways?"

        "Before I left for school my parents were thinking about taking me there when all this is over," she lied quickly.

        A horrible feeling of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach.  She had never lied to him before, and it made her feel awful, especially by involving her parents who he already knew she missed terribly.  She decided not to pursue the matter further, not wanting to arouse any further suspicion from Ron.  Then again, if she didn't get accepted she wouldn't have to tell him anything at all.  Although she knew the chances of her being rejected were fairly slim.

        They heard the front door open and Ginny walked in, looking absolutely frozen.

        "I'm going up to bed," she told them.

        "So, you saw Harry off?"  Ron asked carefully.

        She said nothing, but simply nodded her head, before climbing the stairs.

        "Well, that's an improvement," said Ron, turning his attention back to Hermione.  "I can't remember the last time a conversation between her and Harry didn't end in a shouting match or tears."

        Hermione had to agree.  Maybe the rift between Harry and Ginny had finally started to mend, but she figured it would be a long time – if ever – before things went back to the way they were.  As hard as Harry had tried to cover it up, he had been extremely hurt by Ginny.  Hermione started wondering if Ron would react the same way if she told him she wanted to leave.  She made up her mind then that once they were back at school she would tell him.  It wasn't fair to ask Harry to keep her secret any longer, but she didn't want to be the reason for ruining his Christmas, especially when this might be one of the few peaceful times they had left together.  She was determined to make the most of the time they had left before returning to Hogwarts.

        On Christmas morning, Harry pulled himself out of bed at eight thirty, and stumbled bleary-eyed down the stairs.  Sirius was already waiting for him in the kitchen.  

        "Happy Christmas, Harry," Sirius said cheerfully from where he sat at the table reading the paper.  "I hope you're hungry because I made a little bit of everything."

        He wasn't lying.  Waffles, eggs, sausages and bacon, were stacked a mile high on plates sitting on the counter.  Harry grabbed an empty plate and started filling it up.  "Invited the whole town for breakfast, have you?"

        "With one grown man and another growing man in the house, too much food is not in our vocabulary."

        Harry joined him at the table, eating hungrily.

        "Most teenagers do presents first and breakfast second."

        Harry shrugged.  "I'm not like most teenagers," he said between mouthfuls of sausages. 

         "Well, there's no rush, but one of your gifts is sitting outside in the garage waiting to be opened," Sirius winked at him.

        "It's that big?"

        Sirius grinned mischievously at Harry.  "Let's just say it doesn't exactly belong in the house."

        After listening to Sirius' vague description, Harry found it difficult to sit still long enough to finish his breakfast.  He began to run through the possibilities of what it might be, but kept coming back to a new racing broom.  He recalled telling Sirius many times that he would never give up his Firebolt, but maybe his godfather had finally stopped listening.

        After shoveling down the remainder of his breakfast, Harry threw his winter robe over top of t-shirt and jeans and followed Sirius out to the garage.

        "Close your eyes," Sirius told him still grinning.

        More curious then ever, Harry decided it was best to play along and closed his eyes.  He felt Sirius grab his arm a second later and lead him forward.

        "All right, open them."

        Harry obliged, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dimly lit garage.  He didn't see any boxes wrapped up, and he was about to ask Sirius where it was when his eyes fell on a relatively large object with a bow on its handles.

        Sirius reached around and gripped his shoulder tightly.  "Happy Christmas, Harry."

        Sirius' old motorbike was resting on its kickstand, looking as if it had just been bought yesterday instead of over twenty years ago.

        "That – that's mine," Harry breathed in disbelief.

        "I think my youthful days of using it to pick up girls are over.  It seems only fair that I pass it along to you."

        Harry shook his head to clear it.  "Sirius, I can't – that's your motorcycle."

        "No, it's yours now.  That means you're stuck with it – whether you like it or not."

        Harry walked over and examined it closely.  It looked as though Sirius had spent a great deal of time fixing it up.  A new coat of black paint gleamed back at him.

        "Your father tried so many times to buy it off of me, but I would never part with it.  I think he was just looking for an excuse to show off in front of Lily.  Of course what kind of friend would I be if I hadn't let him borrow it on certain occasions?"

        "Wow, Sirius.  I – thanks," Harry stammered, completely dumfounded.  He was at a loss to find the right words that would show Sirius just how much this gift meant to him.   "I think this is the first gift to top the Firebolt I got in third year."

        That was all the appreciation Sirius needed.

        Harry spent the next two hours in the chilly garage, listening to Sirius relay many of the 'encounters' he had had with his motorbike in his youth.  Listening to him describe those joyful times made him feel closer to his parents, and that was better then any gift his godfather could have given him.

        "Ronald Weasley, what's taking you so long?  We're going to be late," Molly Weasley shouted from the bottom of the stairs.  Shaking her head, she turned to Hermione.  "Is he like this at school?"

        "Actually, he's worse, mum," Ginny answered for her.

        Growing more impatient with each passing second, Mrs. Weasley said, "Ginny, would you go get your brother.  Tell him if he's not down here in the next thirty seconds he's going to wish he didn't have another week of holidays left."

        Ginny wasn't in the rush that her mother was to get to Sirius Black's, but decided it was best to comply with her wishes.  Before she had taken a step though, Ron came bounding down the stairs, looking flustered.

        "Are you finally ready to go?"  His father asked.

        "I can't find Harry's gift."

        Ginny rolled her eyes.  Of course her brother would wait until the last possible second to look for it.

        Mrs. Weasley frowned.  "We'll you're just going to have to apologize to Harry and tell him you'll look for it later.  We're already late."

        "Can't I meet you all there?  If I don't find it in the next ten minutes I'll come join you."

        "All right, we'll see you there then," Arthur Weasley said, and swiftly steered his wife towards the fireplace before she could object. 

        "Can you help me look?"  Ron asked Hermione.

        "Fine, but don't try and blame losing Harry's gift on me like you did last year." 

        "But you _did_ – "   

        Ginny took her turn using the fireplace after her mother and father departed, silently wondering if it was such a good idea to leave Ron and Hermione alone.  They were well overdue for a row, and she could still hear them arguing over who lost who's gift last Christmas as green flames enveloped her and sent her flying through the floo system until she reached the grate that belonged to Sirius' home.  She felt her father's hand reach out and took it gratefully, stepping out of the fireplace.  Professor Lupin was already there, and Sirius was taking her parents cloaks.  He greeted her enthusiastically, which was a lot more than she had been expecting.

        She didn't see Harry anywhere around, but it was her mother who voiced the question that was on her mind.

        "Where's Harry?" 

        At this, Sirius beamed.  "In the garage, trying out his new gift."

        "I'm almost afraid to ask what it is," Mrs. Weasley said, all to aware of the look in Sirius' eyes.

        "Don't worry, Molly, it's nothing dangerous.  I'm just passing on a piece of tradition to him."

        "Sirius gave Harry his motorcycle," Lupin said, joining them.  "If Sirius was barely responsible enough to have one, I'm sure Harry is," he added with a smile, seeing Molly Weasley's brow furrow in concern.

        While her mother and Sirius debated the dangers of motorcycles, Ginny took the opportunity to quietly slip out the front door.  

        Her motto for the holidays was to avoid Harry at all costs, and since he wasn't interested in seeing her, it made it all the more easy.  But last night she felt like something had changed.  When Harry had left the Weasley home because he did not want to be in around her, she had felt compelled to go after him and convince him to stay.  When he had looked at her, his eyes empty of their customary animosity that he generally reserved for her, they were filled with something else she had almost been too afraid to hope for – acceptance.  Acceptance that they were both guilty of mistakes and that this was for the best.  If he was finally ready to move on, that meant she could as well. 

        She tried not to dwell too much on the fact that if Harry really was out of her system, she wouldn't be following him outside.

        As much as Hermione loved him she had never met a more disorganized person then Ron Weasley.  He had her searching behind every piece of furniture the Weasley's owned in what she felt was an utterly hopeless search to find Harry's present.  She didn't know why he couldn't have placed it in his closet like a normal person.  They'd already surpassed their ten-minute time limit, and she was waiting for Mrs. Weasley to appear in the fireplace and tell them both to give up the futile search and get over to Sirius'.  

        "I found it!"  Ron shouted from the top of the stairs.

        "Finally.  Can we go now?"

        "I still have to wrap it.  Want to come up here and give me a hand?"

        Shaking her head with frustration she climbed the stairs.  She should have known he wouldn't even have it wrapped.  She reached the his room, with a very specific scolding in mind.   "Ron, if it was under your bed this whole – " 

        Whatever telling off she was going to give him she forgot it the instant she entered his room.  It was Ron's room all right, but it was almost as if it didn't belong to him anymore.  For starters, it was spotless; no clothes piled in heaps on the floor, and none of his school things scattered around in a disorganized mess.  But those rarities weren't what caught Hermione's attention.  In fact, she didn't even notice the state his room was in because she was too busy gaping at the floating candles all around the room.

        It was awhile before she trusted her voice enough to speak.  "Ron, what's going on?"  

        "I was going to wait and do this at Hogwarts," he began with an embarrassed shrug, "since we've spent so much time there – and it is where we first got together, but I figured The Burrow was as good a place as any."

        She couldn't let her mind conceive the possibility of what he was saying.  But his shaking hands told her all the answers she needed.  "Ron, I – "   

        "Hermione, this would be a lot easier on me if you didn't talk.  I'm nervous enough as it as."  

        She knew what was coming, but knowing didn't make it any less shocking when Ron got down on one knee and took her hand in his, his eyes searching out hers.

        "You have no idea how hard this is for me.  I mean you're the one who's good at making speeches and lectures – many of which I have been on the receiving end of."  He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.  "I've never met anyone who can manage to both infuriate me and make me wild with desire at the same time.  I used to hate the way you would nag me to do better at my studies and everything else in my life.  I know now that it wasn't nagging, it was you challenging me because you saw a person with all this potential who had no idea what to do with it.  You're the only person who thought I was capable of doing anything I wanted and all I had to do was apply myself.  I've never wanted anyone to be prouder of me than you.  I love you, Hermione – I always have.  And I hope you'll give me the chance to make you proud.  Will you marry me?"  He pulled out a small black velvet covered box from his pocket and opened it.  Inside was the most beautiful white gold diamond ring Hermione had ever laid eyes on. 

        Tears were glistening in her eyes.  She was so moved by everything he had just said, she couldn't speak – she couldn't even breathe.  She couldn't even begin to speculate as to how Ron could have afforded such a ring.  She had always praised herself on being able to keep a cool head in any situation, but she found herself rapidly losing that composure.  It was funny how when she needed her rational line of thinking the most, it was nowhere to be found.  If it had been, it would have told her there was no possible way she could accept Ron's proposal.  Not only were they way to young, but there were so many other things she wanted to do before settling down – like starting a career abroad for starters.  

        "I know we're not even eighteen yet," he plunged on, "but it's not like we have to get married tomorrow.  We can wait – two years, three – it doesn't matter.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I can give you as much time as you need."

        "Ron, I – "   She wanted to make some heartfelt speech like he had just done, but just like so many times in the past Ron had left her speechless.  She couldn't find the words to convey every single emotion she was feeling.  But there was one word that would give him a pretty good idea.  "Yes."

        If he had told her to take some time to think about it, she didn't know if her answer would have been the same, once she had worked out everything logically in her brain.   

        His grip tightened around her hand.  "Yes – yes?  You said yes?"

        She nodded, and felt tears of happiness falling freely down her cheeks now.

        Ron was beside himself, sweeping her up in his arms and twirling her around before coming to a stop in the middle of his room – but he didn't let her go.  He brushed aside the few loose strands of hair having fallen in her face.  He had meant every word he had spoken.  There was no one else he wanted to be with.  No one else who made him feel the way she did.  He felt her place a soft hand on his cheek,

        "Ron, I_ am_ proud of you," she whispered fiercely.       

        There was nothing that could have made Ron happier at that moment.  Even if by some miracle the Cannons won the world cup, it would be dismal in comparison to the gift Hermione had just given him.  He showed her that by bringing his mouth down to hers and covering her lips with his own, pouring everything from his soul into that kiss.

Feet crunching in the snow, Ginny approached the garage, its door wide open.  She had hoped the noise of her boots against the pavement would alert Harry to her presence, but he was completely absorbed in his gift from Sirius.  It was up to her to announce her presence.

        "It's nice," she said from behind him.

        Harry turned, slightly startled by her appearance.  "Thanks," he muttered quietly, and removed himself from where he was sitting on the bike.

        "I never pictured you as the motorcycle riding type, though."

        "Where's Ron and Hermione?"  He asked briskly.

        She tried not to let her disappointment show at the brush off he had just given her.  Of course, she really shouldn't have been expecting any more then that.  Harry was still deeply hurt and that wasn't about to disappear anytime soon.  She was wrong to assume that his behaviour last night would have indicated otherwise.

        "Ron's having some difficulties locating your gift.  Hermione's helping him find it," she said simply.

        Harry nodded and picked up a nearby rag, busying himself with wiping away imaginary grease stains on his hands.  

        Sensing the conversation was over, Ginny turned to head back in to the house.  She didn't know why she had allowed herself to seek him out in the first place.  The whole purpose of ending things with Harry was to create some distance between them – that was what Sirius had wanted from her – and here she was finding excuses to be near him.  So much for her 'avoid Harry at all costs' motto.

        She was near the front steps when she heard him following behind her.  She made out as if she hadn't and kept walking.  She almost wished he hadn't called out her name, forcing her to stop.  Then again, if she really didn't want to face him she could have ignored him and kept walking.

        Harry stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets, and was looking like he was struggling for what to say.  For some stupid reason he felt obligated not to let her walk into the house upset with him.  For the life of him he couldn't figure out why – he didn't owe her anything.  But now that he had stopped her, he had to say something.

        He thought quickly.  "Is Professor Lupin here yet?"  Harry already knew that he was, but Ginny didn't.

        "He was in the living room with Sirius when we arrived."

        "I suppose I should head in too, say hello to your mum and dad as well."

        Not sure what else to say to him, she gave a quick nod, and turned to begin walking again.  She was wondering why Harry was making such an effort at being nice, when her foot crossed a slippery patch of ice, and her balance faltered.  She felt herself falling when two strong hands grasped her waist and held her in place.

        She was almost afraid to look up, out of embarrassment and because this was the closest she'd been to Harry in a long time.  Those were not the only awkward factors at work.  In her attempt to stop herself from falling she had grabbed whatever was closest to her, and now found herself still clutching the front of Harry's robes well after the fact.

        "Thanks," she muttered, letting her gaze drop down to the snow so he wouldn't see her blushing.  She hated how just by looking at him he could make her feel like she was an eleven year old again, with a silly schoolgirl's crush.

She released her hold on his chest, but he made no move to remove his hands from her waist, and she found herself not minding at all.  It was with great effort that she forced herself to look up at him.  Harry had always been able to say more with one look then any amount of words.  The way he was staring at her then made her forget she was supposed to be staying away from him.  She wasn't supposed to be thinking things like what it would feel like to kiss him again.

        "It's freezing out here– oh! " 

        Harry pulled his hands from her waist and let them rest at his sides before the first syllable was out of Hermione's mouth.

        She stood there on the front porch, her mouth hanging paritially open at the scene she had just stumbled upon.

        "Oh, um, Sirius thought we should come get you.  I'll tell him you'll be along shortly," she finished quickly and turned to go back in.

        "That's all right, we're coming in now anyways," said Harry stepping away from Ginny.  He avoided looking directly at Hermione, not wanting to see the inquiring look he knew would be present in her eyes.

        "You might not want to stand there with the door open.  You're letting all the cold air in," Ron's voice sounded from behind Hermione.  He stepped out onto the front porch beside her, looking from Harry to Ginny, but doing a much better job then Hermione had just done at covering his surprise.  By now, though, Harry had put a considerable amount of distance between Ginny and he.

        Ron broke the silence by thrusting a rectangular box at him, with a rather poor wrapping job – even for Ron.  "Happy Christmas, mate."

        Harry took it saying, "what took you two so long?"

        If he hadn't been preoccupied with trying to deflect the attention off Ginny and himself, he would have noticed their expressions falter momentarily, like they were hiding something.

"Ron hid your gift so well hidden it took us quite awhile to find it," Hermione explained matter-of-factly.

It was one of the many times Ron was grateful for her quick thinking abilities.  They had decided it was best to keep their engagement a secret for the time being.  They didn't need everyone they knew telling them they were too young to get married.  Ron wasn't disputing that fact, and that's why they were going to wait, but he had the distinct feeling that wouldn't matter to his mother if he told her.  Hermione also wanted to wait until she was able to see her parents again before telling anyone of their plans. 

Harry was so distracted with his own thoughts – about what had just happened before Hermione had interrupted – that as he followed Ron and Hermione back in the house, he again failed to notice the glowing looks they threw each other when they thought he wasn't looking.


	21. Nothing About Life Is Fair

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:  Nothing About Life is Fair

        Ron came strolling into their compartment on the train, his hand laced through Hermione's, saying, "hey, did we miss the lunch trolley?"

        "Yeah, it already came," Harry replied, closing the book he had been reading on _Seeker Techniques – From the Middle Ages Until Now_, a Christmas gift from Hermione.  

        Ron cursed and flung himself down on the seat across from Harry, who was amazed when Hermione made no attempt to scold him for his language.  It didn't take a genius to figure out why.  He had seen their flushed faces, and Ron's mischievous grin when they had walked in.  "What's gotten into you two?  You've been like _this_ since Christmas."

        Harry was almost certain he didn't want to know the reason for the sudden flare of passion in his friend's relationship, but he couldn't help but feel there was more going on then they were telling him.

        "We're just in the Christmas spirit is all," said Ron, throwing an arm around Hermione.

        "Ron, Christmas has been over for a week," Harry pointed out.

        "It's not over for me until we arrive back at Hogwarts."

        "So where have you two been the entire train ride?  Hermione, you said you had head girl business to do and Ron went with you, but you two never came back."

        It was not often that he teased them about their relationship, but after the way they had been acting lately – which was less than discreet – it was impossible not to.  He found they were acting a lot like when they had first gotten together.

        "I was helping Ron finish that essay on giants for Hagrid's class," Hermione replied smoothly.

        "I see… is that the same essay Ron was hurrying to finish last night?"

        Both their faces turned a deeper shade of red.

        "I let Hermione read it over to make sure it was all right," Ron added in quickly.

        "Right," Harry said, struggling to keep a straight face.

        "How's _Ginny_?"  Ron asked, deciding Harry needed a taste of his own medicine.  It was well worth the elbow he received in the ribs from Hermione to see the smug look on his friend's face quickly disappear.  Hermione had lectured him about not teasing Harry about Ginny, but he didn't see what the big deal was.  They seemed cozy enough during the last few days of the holidays.  Turnabout was fair play after all. 

        No more embarrassing remarks were thrown because the train gave a great lurch before coming to a dead stop, signaling they had reached their destination.

        They followed the rest of the students filing off the train and into the waiting carriages outside.  The three of them shared a carriage with Neville, and a couple of younger Hufflepuffs they didn't know by name.

        On the ride to Hogwarts, Harry found he was only slightly relieved to be back.  After the horrendous start to the holidays he had been thinking the two weeks would drag out, but Sirius never brought up the counseling thing again, and the thrill from knowing he would be living on his own after graduation made it hard for him to find reasons to 'sulk around' as Sirius had put it.  Things with Ginny were finally starting to sort themselves out, so he would be starting the winter term with considerably higher spirits then when he had left.  He doubted that it would last long though.  He was sure like himself, Ron would be dreading the N.E.W.T preparation courses they were starting tomorrow.  All that would do was add additional homework on top of what they would receive from their other classes.

        The short carriage ride was over, and they soon joined their classmates already trudging up the castle stairs.  Instead of heading to their respected house towers, Professor McGonagall and several other teachers were directing the students into the Great Hall.

        "What's going on?"  Ron asked.

        Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads, but they weren't the only ones who appeared confused.  No one seemed to have any idea why they were being ushered into the Great Hall.

        The chatter coming from the house tables was at an all time high.  It didn't take long for wild theories to start going around as to why they were there.  Rumours ranging from the Ministry of Magic was closing Hogwarts to the house elves were on strike, were being shouted back and forth amongst the students.

        Harry searched the staff table for any clues, but all the solemn faces confirmed was what he already suspected – something was wrong.  Professor Sprout's eyes were red, and Harry was startled to see that even Professor Trelawney looked a bit misty eyed.  Whatever the news was it was bad, he could tell that much.  He looked for Dumbledore but he wasn't present yet.

        It wasn't fair.  Christmas vacation had just ended.  They were supposed to come back to Hogwarts and be well into their studies again before Voldemort made any movement.  Harry wanted at least one more month of normalcy before things took a turn for the worst.  Was that so much to ask for? 

        Professor McGonagall patiently waited until every student was seated and there was complete silence before speaking.

        "I apologize for the change in routine, but the staff and myself felt it was best we inform you as soon as possible," she began in a grave voice.  The entire hall looked on as their normally stern professor had to compose herself before continuing.  "There is no such thing as being able to be prepared for everything in life.  Many things happen unexpectedly, and sometimes, no matter how hard we prepare, we realize we're not really prepared at all in the end.  That was the first thing Professor Dumbledore told me when I started teaching here.  Yesterday, that statement once again proved itself to be correct.  Albus Dumbledore passed away last night.  His death was strictly the case of natural causes.  I'm sure it hasn't escaped many of you how much older Professor Dumbledore seemed this year.  Eventually, age catches up with us all, but Albus was able to live many long and happy years.  He never forgot a student, just as I'm sure none of you will forget him.  Tomorrow's classes are cancelled, and all professors are available to speak with students privately if they wish.  When funeral arrangements are finalized, I will make a formal announcement.  I'll ask the Prefects now to please lead the students up to their common rooms."  When McGonagall finished, she had to remove her glasses to wipe at her eyes.

        Much somber now, the students silently followed their Prefects out of the Great Hall.  There was no talking, the only thing that could be heard was sniffling and crying.

        Ron had his arm around a red-eyed Hermione, holding her close while they walked with the other Gryffindors back to their tower.  Harry hadn't said a word yet, but Ron knew he and Dumbledore always had some sort of a special relationship.

        "Harry, you okay, mate?"  He spoke tentatively.

        He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, which Harry shrugged off violently, before turning down the opposite direction of where the Gryffindors were heading.  Hermione gave him a worried look that said maybe they should go after him, but Ron wordlessly shook his head.  He knew Harry well enough to know he needed to be alone right now.  The only way they could help him was to give him space.

If there was one thing Hogwarts had taught Harry, it was how to avoid being seen – and with his invisibility cloak disappearing was made all the more easier.  Ron and Hermione were probably worried sick.  He avoided the common room on most occasions and had skipped more meals in the past three days then during his entire tenure at the school.  He'd also skipped almost as many classes that he was sure it was just a matter of time before McGonagall cornered him and reprimanded him for his recent absentness.  Quidditch had been postponed for the week, and at least that way he no longer had to wrestle with his conflicting conscience with thoughts of blowing off practice and the team.

        That night he had opted to leave his invisibility cloak behind before leaving Gryffindor Tower.  He found it didn't really matter anymore if he got caught – and he was praying that Snape would be the one to do it.  He had many choice words in mind for the Potions Master if he tried to punish him for wandering around the school past curfew.  Unfortunately, it wasn't Snape who found him.  Professor McGonagall's stern face was glaring at him from the top of the stairway he was heading for.  She didn't look at all pleased to see him.

        "Potter, come with me," she said to him.  Her voice had lost some of its edge since Dumbledore's death, but her tone told him that didn't mean he was in any less trouble.

        He could have offered up any one of a thousand explanations like his friends and he had during the few times a professor had managed to catch them in the past due to their lack of stealth – but he didn't.  If McGonagall planned on punishing him, he would take it, whatever it was.  He didn't have the energy to lie or to concot some wild story as to why he was wandering the halls at night – not like his head of house would have bought it in the first place.

        Harry had only been to McGonagall's office several times – and each one of those times he had been in severe trouble – but he knew enough to know they weren't heading in the direction anywhere near it.  The path she was leading him on seemed familiar enough, but besides some empty classrooms he didn't think anything else was there.  Maybe she was going to make him do homework all night to catch up on the assignments he had missed that week.

        He kept up with his teacher's brisk pace, but came stumbling to a halt when he found himself standing in front of the statue of an oversized phoenix.

        McGonagall spoke the password (sugar quills) and the statue disappeared replaced by a set of concrete stairs spiraling upwards.  Without pausing to look at him, McGonagall began climbing the stairs.  Harry followed up after her, desperately wanting to know what was going on and why she was taking him to Dumbledore's office.

        Once inside, they walked into a room that looked every bit like Dumbledore was still alive.  All the unique gadgets were lying on tables in the corners and all the paintings of past Head Masters still hung on every inch of the wall.

        "As much as I should, I have no intentions of punishing you, Potter," McGonagall began.  "It didn't escape me that you had a rather unique relationship with Albus, and that his death has been very hard on you.  I'm sorry that the only comfort I can offer you is by telling you what he was working on before he died."  When she was sure she had Harry's full attention, she continued.   "He was working on a way to defeat You-Know-Who.  He kept his work very secret, and he only told me very little about it.  He wasn't searching for a way to defeat him himself, he was looking for a way to help you fight him.  As much as Albus wanted to take on the Dark Lord himself, he knew you had to be the one to fight him.  Before his death, he was spending a great deal of time up here with his books, searching for the answer.  Unfortunately, he never kept any records and never told me if he was close to finding his answers.  I believe – and I'm sure Albus would agree with me – that you should continue the search.  If there is even just the remote chance that You-Know-Who can be brought down, I'm willing to let you use Dumbledore's office for as long as necessary to find what he was searching for.  I'm almost certain, seeing as how much time Albus spent in here, that the answers are here buried somewhere.  It is too large a search for one person alone, so I'm sure you will want to enlist the help of those you can trust.  If there is anything else I can do to help, you need only ask, Potter."

        He heard his Professor's retreating footsteps and knew she meant to leave him alone.  Where moments earlier he had done nothing but feel sorry for himself, he suddenly found himself looking in a new direction.  That direction was about ten feet high and filled with very large books.

        "You do realize that we could spend the rest of our lives in here and still not get through every book.  There must be hundreds in here!"

        Harry shared Ron's misgivings.  Even if they spent every free moment they had with their nose in a book, it could probably still take years before they found what Dumbledore had been searching for.  The problem was they didn't have years.  If they were lucky they had a few months at most, but even then there were no guarantees.  

        "Well, we're not just going to give up and do nothing, are we?"  Hermione said in her most challenging voice – which also happened to be her most annoying.  But her attitude was exactly the sort of drive Harry was looking for.

        Since pulling them aside in the common room earlier that night and telling them everything McGonagall had told him, they had done nothing but talk about the possible ways to defeat Voldemort that they would find in Dumbledore's books.  Hermione, the realist of the three, had pointed out that if it were that easy, Dumbledore would have found it long ago.  But since Dumbledore had searched alone, two extra persons should make some sort of a difference.  At least that's what Harry was hoping.

        "Where should we start?"  Harry asked.  Pulling books off the shelf at random didn't seem too appealing to him.

        Hermione pondered this before saying, "Harry, start looking through the books on Medieval Dark Wizards, and Ron look for anything on Defense Against the Dark Arts dating back as far as you can find.  I'll start going through the books that go in to detail about some of the more potent magic."

        Ron picked up a massive looking book off one of the shelves.  He had to use both hands to lug it towards the rectangular table McGonagall had conjured up for them to use.  "It's a good thing you picked her to be in charge.  We'll have this whole place read in a week the way she goes through books."

        "I didn't pick her, she just assumed the role," Harry said from across the room.

        "You need someone who can set a decent pace," she said, from where she was sifting through a section of books on the other side of the Harry.

        Harry and Ron both let out a snort of laughter, that Hermione pretended not to hear.  Her idea of a decent pace was going through a book or two a day – reading every single word on every page.

Harry realized it was the first time he had laughed, let alone cracked a smile in days.  Suddenly he wished he hadn't been so quick to shut his friends out since returning from Christmas break.

        "Dumbledore's funeral is going to be held Saturday morning," Hermione said quietly to him.  "You missed Professor McGonagall's announcement at dinner."

        Harry nodded his head enough to acknowledge that he had heard her before immersing himself in a book.

        "You are going, aren't you?"

        He continued to read as though he hadn't heard her.

        "Harry, you really should go," she urged.

        His head snapped up.  "Why?  So I can be around a bunch of people bawling their eyes out that isn't going to make me feel one ounce better?"

        "You don't know that," Ron said.  "It might do you a world of good to be around people who are grieving just as much as you are,"

        He hated when they would team up against him like this.  It didn't happen very often, but when it did it annoyed the hell out of him.  "I'm not grieving and I'm _not_ going.  And you both should respect my decision."

        He waited for them to press the matter further, but after exchanging a quick look with each other that Harry missed, they turned their attention back to their research.  He was thankful for that because he had just started talking to them again and he needed their help more than anything right now.  It wouldn't do for them to get in some huge row with so much at stake – even more so then before.

        It was well after midnight when the trio called it a night and returned to the common room.  Harry was able to sneak off up to bed without any more talk about Dumbledore's funeral.  The rest of his dorm mates were still up, either holed up in the library or down in the common room.  He figured he should probably try and catch up on a bit of reading before going to sleep, but Hermione had made him leaf through so many books that night he couldn't see straight.  

        When he heard a knock at his door, he gritted his teeth fearing it would be Hermione trying to convince him of the benefits of attending Dumbledore's funeral.  He considered ignoring her, but the knocking persisted and if he didn't answer he had a feeling that wouldn't stop her from just walking in.

        He already had a few carefully phrased words in mind to get her to leave him alone, but it wasn't Hermione on the other side of his door.  The person standing there he had no words for.

        "I hope I didn't wake you," Ginny said timidly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

        "I was just getting into bed." He folded his arms over his chest, hoping she would take the hint that he wasn't inviting any further communication.

        "I wanted to see how you were doing," she said earnestly.

        "That might carry more weight if you weren't the hundredth person to ask me that this week," he went to shut the door, but she moved into the doorway to stop him.

        "You never answered me."

        "Ginny, I don't owe you anything," he snapped.  At the moment he didn't care that she had done nothing to warrant this kind of treatment.  He just needed someone to feel the brunt of his grief for a while.  

        "And I don't want anything from you," she said, standing her ground.

        "Of course you do.  Somebody always wants something from me.  It's always been like that, and I wish it would stop and that everyone would leave me the hell alone."

        "You don't want that."

        "It already feels like I am."

        "Dumbledore – "

        "Don't talk about him like you knew him," Harry cut in angrily.  "And everyone around here has been sobbing their eyes out like they did too, and they think going to his funeral is going to make everything okay again, but it won't, and eventually they'll see that."

        "You're not going, are you?"

        He shrugged, indifferent, as if she had just asked him a question about the weather.

        "The one thing I never understood about you was how you can just cut yourself off from any feelings with a snap of your fingers.  Harry, would it kill you to admit that Dumbledore's death left a hole in you, and to show everyone you're human like the rest of us?"

        "I never invited you up here to comfort me – in fact, I didn't invite you up here at all," he said, his voice rising steadily.  "But I am inviting you to stay out of my life.  You don't have the right to come up here and tell me what I should be feeling.  You don't know me, and let's face it Ginny, you never really did.  Ron and Hermione are the only two people I've ever been able to count on."

        He had some more harsh insults ready to throw her way, but Ginny chose that moment to bolt from his room, denying him the opportunity.

Okay, so I know many of you are probably ready to throw large heavy objects at me because it looked like Harry and Ginny were going to work things out.  All I have to say is that things have to get worse before they can get better – but they will eventually get better, I promise!

Sparkle Tangerine:  Wow… I don't know what to say except thanks for that story-like review!  That's probably the longest review I'll ever get in my life.  I loved reading all your different views on the story.  Thanks again!


	22. Weight of the World

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:  Weight of the World

        Harry thought he heard a shuffling sound behind him, but when he turned to check there was nothing.  When he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed, he took out his wand.  It might seem a bit paranoid to some, but Lupin had taught him it was better to be paranoid then careless.  And what better time for someone to try an attack while the rest of the school, including all the teachers were conveniently as far away from him as possible.

        "Moony's been teaching you well, I see."

        A lone figure stepped out from the shadows and pulled back the hood of their cloak.

        Realizing he wasn't in any danger, Harry safely tucked his wand back into his robes.  "You shouldn't skulk around like that.  I could have hexed you, Sirius."

        "Then it's good for me that your brain works faster then your reflexes."

        Harry gave him a quick hug, saying, "what are you doing here?  Did something happen?"

        Sirius' face took on a very grim look, and there was no need for him to explain further.  He must have come for the funeral.

        "I always knew Dumbledore knew a lot of people, I just never realized how many until today."

        "You didn't have to check up on me," Harry said, trying to deflect his attention away from the funeral.  Sirius would no doubt want to know why he had not attended.

        "I know I didn't _have_ to.  But I figured you'd refuse to go.  That you wouldn't want to get teary-eyed like the rest of us."

        "That's not why I didn't go," he tried unconvincingly.  Sirius was looking at him as if waiting for him to offer up an explanation, but Harry didn't give him one.  "Sirius, I'm an adult.  I don't have to explain my decisions to you."

        "You're not quite an adult yet, remember that," Sirius corrected him.  But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't the truth.  Harry was a lot more grown up then he liked to admit.  He had already dealt with more at seventeen then most adults did in a lifetime – and for a good chunk of it he had been locked away in Azkaban, unable to help his godson in even the most simplest of ways. 

        "I was talking with Remus and McGonagall and they tell me there's a special project the three of you are working on."

        "There's nothing special about it.  We're just picking up where Dumbledore left off on his search for defeating Voldemort – except we don't know where he left off.  He didn't leave any notes or anything."

        "He was probably worried about them falling into the wrong hands.  Knowing Dumbledore, he probably kept everything safely hidden away in his head."

        "Everything we've found so far has been useless," he began, his tone frustrated.  "It starts off good, and then we get to the part where it won't have any affect on him, or not enough to stop him."

        "If you want a hand – "

        "Thanks, Sirius, but I know you already have your hands full tracking down Death Eaters for the Ministry."

        "That doesn't mean I don't have time for my godson.  If you need anything, Harry, all you have to do is ask."  He added in that last part hoping that by offering up the chance to help Harry might actually take him up on it.  But if Harry was anything like James – and he most certainly was in almost every respect, he would never admit to needing help.  Watching him then, he looked to Sirius to be in need of something else as well – food.  "When was the last time you ate something?"  Harry was looking a lot thinner then when he had seen him two weeks earlier.

        Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry responded, "this morning."

        "I meant an entire meal – pumpkin juice and coffee on a regular basis don't count."

        "I'll make sure he eats something," said a voice from behind Sirius.

        Cho was standing there, wearing her winter cloak, and unwrapping a thick scarf from around her neck.

        "At least someone can get through that thick skull of his," said Sirius.  He clasped Harry on the shoulder before saying, "I'll be in touch – _soon_.  If you need anything before then promise you'll owl me or talk to Remus, all right?"  

        When Sirius was finally convinced with his promise, he took his leave, leaving Harry and Cho alone in the corridor.

        "Want to grab something from the kitchens?" She asked him.

        "Do I have a choice?" He said good-naturedly.

        Instead of answering, she linked her arm through his and led the way towards the kitchens. 

        "You must have your practice N.E.W.T.S coming up," Cho said, digging into the lemon pie the house elves had shoved into her hands when she and Harry had walked into the kitchens.

        They were alone in the Great Hall, and would probably remain undisturbed for the next couple of hours before students began coming down for dinner.

        After swallowing a mouthful of pie, Harry said, "the first half of them are next week.  But they don't mean anything unless you're trying to get into some high level position at the ministry."

        "I guess it's safe to say Hermione's probably been cracking a book every chance she gets."

        "She's been a bit, ah, tense, so to speak.   Ron and I have been giving her a wide birth."

        "I can only imagine what she'll be like when it comes time to take them for real."

        "Ron and I have already put in a request for temporary residence at Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff," Harry told her and she laughed.  "Got any helpful tips for me?"

        She chewed thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "study hard."

        "Thanks, that helps a lot."

        "They're really not that bad, Harry," she said to him.  Then seeing the look of disbelief he was sending her, sighed. "Okay, N.E.W.T.S are as bad as the professor's make them out to be, but you'll get through them – I did."

        He found it odd that he was so worried about examinations when he had other, much more pressing things to worry about – like finding a way to stop Voldemort.

        "I was thinking about asking Professor Flitwick if I can stay on passed March."

        "Why?"

        She shrugged.  "Hogwarts has been my home for almost eight years.  I think that maybe I should be here in the end when everything happens."

        Where Harry had been ravenous only moments ago, that hunger was rapidly disappearing.  "Don't stay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

        "Professor McGonagall is going to need everyone she can to protect the school and the students.  I can't abandon Hogwarts."

        "One person can't make a difference."

        "Oh, really?"  She shot him a meaningful look.  "Then why don't you leave, Harry?"

        "You know I can't.  It's different for me.  But I would feel a lot better if at least one person I care about wasn't here when the fighting starts."

        "Well, that's too bad, Harry.  My mind's made up."

        He felt the gnawing pain inside of him growing stronger.  People were putting their lives in danger for him – willingly.  He didn't want that responsibility, even when he knew it was her choice, as much as it was Ron or Hermione's choice to fight by his side.  That's what troubled him.  What had he ever done to command that kind of loyalty?  Because he was quite sure he wasn't deserving of their sacrifice.

        "All I have to say is thank Merlin Colin walks around all the time with that camera of his!" Ron exclaimed, almost giddily.  "The look on Malfoy's face when Filch opened the door to the broom cupboard and we all saw him snogging Pansy Parkinson was almost as good as the time Moody turned him into a ferret.  Maybe we should ask Colin for a copy and then we could sneak into Slytherin Tower while they're all in class and plaster the walls with copies of it."

        Harry shook his head and grinned.  "You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"  

        They were taking the stairs up to Dumbledore's office, preparing for another torturous evening of research.  Hermione was already there, having gone straight there from dinner.

        "I've been trying to think of a way to get back at Malfoy for seven years worth of insults.  This won't come close to paying him back, but it's a start.  It's time Malfoy was the one who squirmed red with embarrassment for a change."

        They were both laughing at the different scenarios they came up with to embarrass Malfoy as they entered Dumbledore's office.  Their laughter died down quite suddenly when they became aware that Hermione was not the only one waiting for them.  Sitting alongside Hermione with an equally high mountain of books in front of her, one of which she had been furiously scanning before the boys had interrupted, was Ginny.

Sensing the impending awkwardness, Hermione spoke first.  "I was starting to wonder when you two would show up."

"You couldn't expect us not to have a bit of fun with Malfoy first," said Ron, dropping down on to a seat beside her.  "As long as I live, I promise to never let that smug git live that down."

Ron, too, was trying to difuse some of the tension in the atmosphere.  It seemed to be working but Harry wasn't any more closer to moving towards the table.  In fact, he felt quite comfortable standing where he was.

Ron looked over to where Harry was still rooted in place in the doorway.  "Mate, it's pretty hard to read these monstrous books standing up.  You'd be doing yourself a favour by sitting down."

There was the other option at hand of leaving entirely, but if Harry did that they would all know how much Ginny's presence bothered him.  Doing the exact opposite of what he would have liked, he slid into a seat at the far end of the table – as far away from her as he could be.  If he was being immature, he didn't care.  She had no business being there in the first place.  He certainly never would have invited her to join in their research, but he knew who had.

Hermione had more than enough practice in dealing with people when they were mad at her, mostly thanks to Ron.  But she had found over the years that Harry tended to hold onto his anger much longer then Ron.  She theorized that it had a lot to do with his childhood.  He wanted to see if they would hang around or just give up and abandon him.  She hoped by now he knew that Ron and she would never abandon him.  But with Harry it wasn't always easy to know what was going on in that head of his.  Most times he didn't wear his emotions on his sleeves like Ron did.

Reaching the Gryffindor breakfast table, Hermione proceeded to take a seat on the bench across from Harry.  They were all sore and exhausted from their early morning Dark Arts class, but Harry appeared to be the weariest of them all.

"How's your shoulder?"  She asked him.  He had been sparing with Ron when his defense shield had collapsed and he got clipped in the shoulder – not too bad, but enough to bruise.

Harry shrugged and kept his head down, pushing the food around his plate.

He had avoided talking to her most of last night and all through Lupin's class.  At first, she thought she was okay with waiting for him to come around, but she knew now they didn't have that kind of time.

"You're mad at me."

He looked at her for the first time all morning.  "You're quick, no wonder they made you Head Girl."

Ignoring his sarcasm, she said, "I know you think I betrayed you in some way by bringing Ginny in on what we're doing, but the truth is we _need_ her.  She's the only other person we can trust enough to help."

"And you didn't think to let me in on what you were planning?"

"I knew you would say no because of your own personal feelings towards Ginny.  But she's been apprenticing with Madame Pomfrey and I think she would notice things about magical properties that the rest of us might miss," she explained, trying to rationalize her decision.  "You don't have to like the decision I made, Harry, but you are going to have to live with it."

She watched Harry digest her words.  He didn't appear to be any more accepting of her decision even with her explanation.  For that matter, he was still regarding her with blazing green eyes, as if she had indeed stabbed him in the back.  For Hermione, enough was enough.

"I know how hard it is for you to be around Ginny, and that the four of us working together in such close quarters won't be easy – but people's lives are at stake, Harry.  Not just at Hogwarts, but throughout the entire wizarding world.  If we don't find a way to stop Voldemort everyone we love will die or suffer a fate much worse.  And if you can't get over what happened between you and Ginny, then we'll do this without you."  His eyes widened considerably at this, but she ignored it.  "Harry, I love you and you're my best friend, but if you can't put aside your differences with Ginny in order to save the world, then you're no better then Malfoy."

If he had looked angry before it was nothing compared to now.  He looked absolutely furious.  But that wasn't what mattered.  Harry Potter could stay mad at her as long as he liked, but if he didn't come to his senses soon there probably wouldn't be much of a friendship worth salvaging. 

For the first time since she had met him on that train ride to Hogwarts so very long ago, Hermione was disgusted with Harry Potter.

Even if Ron hadn't wanted to study – which he didn't – there wasn't a single person to distract him.  Seventh years – Gryffindor and otherwise – were currently jammed into the library studying his or her brains out for a practice Charms exam that would be very much like the final examination they had to take in June.  

He supposed his inability to get into study mode might also have something to do with the increasing level of tension between his two best friends.  It had started when Hermione had blindly brought Ginny into their research group without so much as a heads up to Harry.  But now, at least to Ron, it seemed to have developed into something else entirely.  Hermione refused to tell him anything and from what little information he'd been able to get out of Harry it seemed that Hermione had given him an ultimatum of sorts.  The longer Harry went without giving her an answer the more tense things got.  All of that had led Ron to the belief that if they let Harry in on their engagement maybe some of the hard feelings would disappear.  Hermione had disagreed, saying the news wouldn't change anything, but Ron had finally convinced her otherwise, saying that he could do with some good news.  

Ron had been planning to tell him some place private, but the only times the three of them seemed to be together anymore was when they were studying or researching in Dumbledore's office.  Ginny would be with them during their research hours, and since he wasn't sure he wanted his sister to know yet, the next best place was during one of their study sessions in the library.

It was hard to find a table just for the three of them, and they had to settle for one that had four Hufflepuff students sitting at the far end of it.

After an hour of studying, Ron gently nudged Hermione's knee under the table.  She looked as nervous as he felt, but why they should be feeling that way was beyond them.  If there was anyone they could share this news with it was Harry.  

Fighting off another surge of nervousness, he said, "hey, Harry, you want to take a break for a minute?  There's something Hermione and I want to tell you."

Harry stopped what he had been writing and looked at the both of them expectantly.

Hermione undid the top two buttons on her blouse before pulling out a silver chain with a white gold ring looped onto it.

"We're engaged," Ron announced, barely able to keep a low voice.  "We're not planning on anything anytime soon, but we wanted you to be the first to know."

It was several long moments before Harry spoke, and when he did he gave them a less than enthusiastic 'congratulations'.

Blinking in disbelief, Ron said, "that's all you've got to say?"

Surely his best friend was in shock and once he recovered he would have more to say.

"I'm really happy for the two of you.  Is that good enough?"

"You know, Harry, I never thought you were capable of being such a bastard."

"Ron don't – "

"Don't you dare defend him, Hermione," Ron cut her off sharply.  "He doesn't deserve it.  I've had enough of his shitty attitude.  I wonder if this is what Ginny had to put up with."

Harry's hands clenched themselves into fists, and Ron took some satisfaction in the thought that he had hit a sore spot.

"You want to talk about shitty attitudes, Ron?"  Harry countered, barely able to contain his temper.  "Who spent most of fifth year moping around about Hermione, instead of doing something about it?

"Stop it, both of you!"  Hermione pleaded with them.

"I would've thought my best mate would be the one person who would be happy for us," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione's plea.  "But I guess the only emotion you're capable of is feeling sorry for yourself."

Harry slammed his book shut with such force, nearly every pair of eyes in the library, including Madam Pince, was on their table.  Hermione thought they would come to blows right there, but Harry gathered up his stuff and walked away.  Ron wouldn't let it end there, though.  He went after him.

"You don't get to walk away from this, Potter," Ron said, grabbing the back of his shoulder and spinning him around.  "We've had to put up with your mood swings and you treating us like shit for months, so you're going to stand here and listen to me do it for a change," he shouted at Harry, not caring they were in a library and everyone would undoubtedly be listening to his every word.  "You're a bloody mess, Harry, and you've just gotten worse since Dumbledore's death.  We all know you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but that doesn't give you the right to go around acting like a wanker about it.  Hermione and I have done everything we can to be there for you and to show you you're family, but it'll never be enough, will it?  You keep testing us, and for god knows what reason.  We've proven ourselves more times then we should have to, but you keep insisting on pushing us away.  Well, go ahead, Harry, push us away one last time and you'll finally have what you want."

Ignoring the gaping looks and sets of eyes trained on him, Ron stormed out of the library, knowing full well that might be the last conversation he ever had with his best friend – and strangely enough, he didn't seem to care.


	23. Changing Tactics

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:  Changing Tactics

        The sky had turned a dark ominous gray since the morning, making a storm seem inevitable.  It could rain all it wanted, but Ron had no intentions of going back inside anytime soon.  He was sure if he went back now and saw Harry he would have a go at him and would not feel the least bit remorseful if he landed his _best_ mate in the hospital wing.  The impending storm suited his mood anyways and he had no desire to listen to the younger students free from O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations laughing and carrying on in Gryffindor Tower.

        He could hear someone approaching but made no effort to turn around.  It obviously wouldn't be Harry and there was only one other person who would dare come after him when he was still bound to be in a state of fury.

        He folded his arms squarely over his chest and kept his gaze fixed in the direction of Hagrid's hut, but the closed-off attitude did not deter his follower in the slightest.  Instead, she stood patiently beside him, not speaking.  They stood like that not talking for some time, and when it became apparent she wasn't going to leave, he rounded his explosive temper on her.

        "I'm not going back."

        "I know," Hermione said calmly.

        "And I won't apologize for what I said either."

        "I'm not asking you to."

        "Do you have to be so understanding?"  He snapped.

        "Hoping I'd come down so we could have a row like you and Harry back there, were you?"  She shot back hotly.

        "I'm sorry," he apologized, some of his temper ebbing away.  "I've got no reason to be angry with you, but I was expecting you to tell me off."

        "Well, I wasn't… I agree with you actually."

        He stared at her incredulously.  "You – you do?"

        She nodded, and touching his arm affectionately, said, "Harry's spent the better half of seven years trying to push us away for one reason or another – and it's never really worked until now.  That's why I think it's time we changed tactics."

        "What do you mean?"  He asked, not understanding.

        "We stop pushing back."

        She made it sound like it was as simple as deciding to give up pumpkin juice in the morning – but they both knew it was anything but that.  Harry was as much a part of Ron's family as his brothers and Ginny were.  Though he had never actually come out and said it the sentiment was there.  He was certain it was the same for Hermione as well.  Not to mention everything the three of them had been through together.  Ron couldn't remember a time when Hermione and Harry had not been part of some significant event in his life.

        "It's for his own good," she said, seeing his doubtful expression.  "He goes on about wanting to be left alone, that when he finally gets it he'll be miserable and realize being alone isn't the answer to his problems."

        It sounded like carefully thought-out Hermione logic, but even being as angry as he still was with Harry, Ron didn't see how letting their best friend sink further into himself until he came to the realization that he needed them was a good thing.

        "I wish I'd hit him," said Ron absently, cracking his knuckles.  "He gave me reason enough to."

        "That would have been exactly the reaction Harry would have been hoping for.  So you two could have it out in the library and you both end your friendship without him having to say a word.  He's afraid to tell you to stay out of his life, so he tried the next best thing.  That's just the way his brain works.  It's 'Harry logic'," she added as an afterthought, remembering saying the same thing to Ginny once.

        "So we're just supposed to ignore him and hope he comes around, is that your carefully thought out plan?"

        "Harry's very proud and can be as stubborn as the both of us when he wants to be – it might take awhile."

        There were so many things he didn't like about her plan, and he told her so.  "What if you're wrong?  What if he decides he's happy never speaking to the both of us again?"

        Hermione shrugged and rested her chin on his shoulder.  "Then there's nothing we can do," she said, letting the bitter sound of defeat creep into her voice.  "I'm as furious with him as you are for the way he's been acting, but we can't keep going on like this – the three of us.  Harry has to make a choice.  If it's the right one, we'll be there for him like we always have.  If it's not…"

        There was no need for her to finish.  They both knew the stakes.  They could end up losing Harry altogether, but the way Ron saw it they already seemed to have lost him.

        "Do you want to head back in now?"  Hermione's voice broke into his thoughts.

        "I s'ppose – "

        The rest of the sentence died in his throat as he felt all the air being sucked out of him.  The feeling of grim defeat and a coldness unlike anything he had felt in a very long time gripped him.  He was still alert enough to see the same thing was happening to Hermione.  It was only when she collapsed to her knees beside him, did he see the four cloaked figures gliding towards them at an inhumanly fast pace.

        Dementors.

        Ron fumbled for his wand, fighting against the crushing feeling of hopelessness that would not let up.  He shouted out his Patronus, but little more than bits of silver mist shot out from the end of his wand.  He went to shout it again, while trying to keep his mind closed to the onslaught of dark thoughts threatening to rip every happy memory from him, when a skeletal hand seized him from behind.  He heard Hermione scream as the hand wrapped itself tighter around his throat.

        He made another feeble attempt at a Patronus, but with the scar-tissued hand crushing his windpipe, it was impossible.  Black spots danced in front of his eyes, but he would not give up his struggle to break free.  He couldn't leave Hermione to deal with the Dementors alone.  But he soon found out that lack of oxygen to his brain was making it difficult to accomplish just that.  He didn't have the strength left to resist as the hooded face came down to meet his own.

        "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

        The Dementor about to administer the kiss was shot backwards by an extremely powerful ray of silver light.  Ron crumpled to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

        "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

        Rolling onto his back, Ron made out the face of Remus Lupin through his still hazy vision.  He was standing protectively in front of Hermione and himself, continuing to shout his Patronus at the Dementors, who were starting to back off more fully now.  Lupin remained yelling out 'Expecto Patronum' until the last Dementor was gliding harmlessly away from them, and beyond the Hogwarts gates.  Only when he was sure they were out of sight, did he lower his wand and hurry over to Ron, who was struggling to get to his feet.

        Lupin gave Ron a hand, running a concerned eye over him.  "Ron, are you all right?"  Without waiting for an answer, he began checking him over for visible signs of injuries. 

        Ron managed a feeble nod.  He didn't feel like he was ready to speak so soon after nearly having his throat crushed in.  With some difficulty he was able to remain standing without any assistance from his professor.  His hand sought out Hermione's and she clutched it tightly.  She was as pale as the ghosts that roamed the castle.

        "You'll be feeling better in no time," Lupin assured them both.  "We'll go straight to Madame Pomfrey."

        Though they both refused his help, Lupin stayed close by, just in case.  Recovering from a Dementor attack took some time.

        Ron wanted to ask if the Dementors were gone for good, or if Lupin had merely used his Patronus to buy them some time to get inside, but having to put one foot in front of the other was a big enough problem for him at that particular moment. 

        Harry sought out the solitude of Dumbledore's office after Ron's attack on him in the library.  He knew he would not find peace if he went back to Gryffindor Tower, especially if Ron and Hermione were there.  That led him to the belief that Dumbledore's office was the best choice for solace.

        He quickly discovered that it wasn't in the cards for him to get any solitude that day.

        At the sound of the large griffin doorknob turning, Ginny looked up from the mound of books surrounding her, and found herself facing up at him.

        "I didn't think anyone would be here," he said rather stiffly.  He made as if to leave, but Ginny stopped him.

        "It's okay.  I'll go." 

        She started closing up her books, when – against his better judgment – he said, "don't worry about.  Stay."

        She looked as uncertain as he had sounded, but nevertheless stayed where she was.  Still not sure where the sudden kindness had come from, Harry took a seat opposite her.  He could tell she was trying very hard not to look at him, and busied himself by opening up one of the books on the table and leafing through out.  After having read the same sentence over ten times, he forced himself to look up at and said the first thing that popped into his head.

        "I didn't know you were practicing to become a medwitch."

        She appeared taken aback by his sudden decision to converse with her, and tried covering it up by saying, "it's nothing really.  I've just been working with Madame Pomfrey on certain occasions."

        She didn't ask how he had known, probably figuring it was Hermione who had told him.

        "Have you told your mum and dad?"

        "Harry, stop," she said gently but firmly.

        Puzzled, he said, "what?"

        "_This_.  You can't do _this_.  You can't act like you hate me one minute, and then question me about my choice in careers the next.  You can't have it both ways, Harry."

        "Sorry if I was just trying to show an interest in something that you obviously care a great deal about."

        "But you're not interested," she countered.  "You're just feeling guilty because of the last time we spoke."

        Harry pushed back from the table.  "I don't have anything to feel guilty about.  If you can't handle a little honesty…"

        He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air, but Ginny caught his meaning clearly.

        Standing up and resting her palms on the table, she matched his glare.  "Go ahead and keep hiding behind your hero act, Harry, but underneath that is a scared little boy who's afraid everyone is going to abandon him."

        At the exact moment she tried to leave, he grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him.

        He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he was feeling.  Ginny Weasley had gotten under his skin once again.  He didn't know what made him angrier.  The fact that she was dead on or that she had the nerve to say such a thing to him.

        Eyes locked, concentrating solely on each other, they didn't hear a third person enter the room until their presence was made known.

        "Harry."

        Hearing Lupin's voice, Harry stopped clutching Ginny's wrist and let his arm fall limply to his side.  Their professor was carefully watching the two of them.  It was evident he wanted to know what he had walked in on, but there was a sense of urgency about him that prevented him from asking.

        "Harry, you better come with me.  You too, Ginny."

        He tried to keep his tone light, but Harry saw through it.  "What's going on?"

        "You'll see when we get to the hospital wing."

        Harry felt his stomach muscles clench.  If Lupin wanted both him and Ginny it could only mean one thing.  "Ron?  Is he okay?"

        "He's going to be fine," Lupin informed them both.  "I'll explain on the way."

        Harry didn't need any further prodding.  Lupin hadn't been very forthcoming with information, but if Ron was in the hospital wing he must have been hurt.  Despite his professor's assurances, he wanted to see Ron for himself before deciding whether or not he was all right.

        Hermione was the first person Harry saw when he sprinted into the hospital wing.  She was sitting on the side of a bed, eyes locked on where the curtains were closed around a bed a few feet down.

        Lupin and Ginny came running in behind him shortly after.

        "Hermione, are you okay?"  Harry asked breathlessly.  Lupin had quickly explained about the Dementor attack.  He had been on his way back from the Shrieking Shack after last night's full moon and had seen them.

        "I'm fine," she answered a little too quickly.

        Harry could see she was far from fine.  She was shaking, and there was a pile of uneaten chocolate lying beside her.

        He sat on the bed next to her, trying to not alarm her by asking about Ron.  He knew better then most the horrors that accompanied being in the presence of a Dementor, but a lot of good that did him when he had no idea what to say to reassure her.

        The curtains opened around the bed and Madame Pomfrey stepped out, holding a steaming potion beaker and small container of some blue-coloured cream.  Ron jumped off the bed and hurried over to his friends, but not without a scolding from the matron.

        "Mr. Weasley, you have suffered sever injuries to your neck – not to mention the after affects of being in the presence of a Dementor.  If you can't show a little restraint, I will ask the others to leave."

        "All right, Ron?"  Harry asked, not bothering to mask his concern.

        "Never better," he answered, but he was looking at Hermione when he spoke.  "Nothing like a little Dementor party to liven up a boring day."  His neck had a pale blue tint to it from the substance Madame Pomfrey had put on it.

        Much to her brother's annoyance, Ginny beginning examining his neck, checking for signs of injury.

        "Gin, get off," he growled at her.  "Madame Pomfrey's poked me enough without you trying to do the same."

        Expression sour, Ginny heeded her brother's request.

        "Let's get out of here," said Ron, holding out a hand to Hermione, who took it and laced her fingers through his.

        Madame Pomfrey immediately objected to this.  "Not so fast, Mr. Weasley.  You need to – "

        "I think a quiet night in their own beds is in order, don't you, Poppy?"  Lupin interjected on his students behalf.

        "I suppose," she agreed grudgingly.  "But I want you to take some chocolate with you, and if either one of you is still feeling ill in the morning come see me immediately."

        "Of course they will," Lupin answered for them.

        Looking rather disgruntled that Lupin had overruled her authority, the matron stuffed a handful of chocolate into their hands before retreating back to her office.

        Harry went to help Ron get Hermione to her feet, but Ron not so subtly pushed him out of the way.

        "I just want to help," said Harry.

        "Yeah, well, don't.  We don't need your _help_," Ron snarled, linking an arm around Hermione's waist.  "You made it quite clear you didn't want ours."

        Harry was waiting for Hermione intervene on his behalf like she so often did, but she was silent, letting Ron lead her passed the others and out of the hospital wing.

        Watching their retreating backs, Harry was struck by a horrible realization.  He was alone.  For something he had so desperately sought after on many occasions, he didn't like the feeling of it one bit.  Ron's early threat rang in his ears and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.  


	24. Mending Old Wounds

A/N:  Sorry it's taken me so long to update – some of you were probably starting to think I'd abandoned this story, which I haven't – but I've been really, really busy with school lately.  As soon as the semester ends I should have some time to catch up on my writing before the new semester starts.  

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:  Mending Old Wounds

        As the weeks rolled by and Hermione and Ron still refused to speak to him, the more certain Harry became that the damage was irreversible.  As February slowly turned into March, he was actually ahead in some of his lessons and had begun vigorously revising for N.E.W.Ts.  He would have given anything to hear Hermione's congratulating voice that he was finally taking his studies seriously.  But really, without his best friends to talk to how else was he supposed to occupy his time?

He had spotted Hermione several times in the library, sitting alone, and had been tempted every one of those times to go over – but had always stopped himself just short of doing so.  He couldn't apologize because he didn't know how a simple 'sorry' would make up for the way he had behaved towards her and Ron all year – and even before that.  More and more he was starting to realize that he had lost their friendship a lot longer then before the Dementor attack, and he had no right to ask for it back since he was bound to just screw it all up again.  He missed them both terribly, but again, that was his fault too, wasn't it?

He didn't even have Quidditch anymore.  Since the Dementor attack, the Ministry of Magic had ruled that all outside activities be cancelled, except of course for their practical Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons.  No student was allowed on the grounds without a professor present – not that there were all that many students left.  Professor McGonagall had met with the other teachers and they had agreed to send home everyone below fourth year.  Anyone fourth year and above was given the option to stay.  Letters had been sent home to every parent and many had pulled out their children without a second thought.  The majority left – if it could be called that – consisted of seventh and sixth years, with the odd fifth or fourth year student still around.

The suffering would have at least been made more bearable if he could have commiserated with Ron that they wouldn't get one last shot at the Quidditch Cup – but he was no more likely to approach Ron then Ron was to approach him.

The only thing that was keeping him sane was continuously searching the shelves of Dumbledore's office for the answer to defeating Voldemort.  At first, he had ventured there only when he knew Ron and Hermione would be elsewhere, but it soon become apparent that they had stopped coming to Dumbledore's office altogether.  He was on his own, but that was fine with him.  He had always known that in the end it would be him alone that would manage to stop the Dark Lord – or be killed in the process.  Hermione and Ron had already sacrificed too much for him, he couldn't ask them to do any more.

At the sound of his classmates packing up around him Harry quickly realized he had spent the entire Divination lesson staring out a window, stuck in his own thoughts.  He hadn't taken in a word of what Trewlany had said (not that it would matter much), but now he had an entire three-foot parchment to do on how the positions of Jupiter's moons affect emotions during certain days of the month.  It was going to be another late night in the library.

He was taking the ladder down to the main hallway, wondering why he had continued Divination passed fifth year in the first place, when he noticed Ron hanging back at the end of the corridor.  He looked to be waiting for someone – and Harry was almost passed him when Ron spoke his name.  It had been so long since he had heard Ron's voice he almost kept walking, thinking he couldn't possibly be speaking to him.  But he was, and as Harry stopped and faced him, he didn't look overly thrilled to be doing so.

"Look, Ron, I don't want to be late for Transfiguration, so whatever you've got to say, just say it," Harry said tersely.  He didn't know why he was so short with Ron.  If anything he should have been elated that Ron was finally speaking with him, but he couldn't help but feel angry towards Hermione and him.  He didn't care how much he had deserved it, that didn't erase the fact that they had turned their backs on him. 

Ron purposely avoided looking in Harry's direction when he spoke.  "It's about Hermione," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Is she all right?"  Harry tried to sound casual, but was sure Ron would be able to make out the concern in his voice.

"She's fine – I mean, she's not – I mean – " Ron stopped himself and began again.  "She hasn't been the same since the Dementor attack," he confided to Harry.  "She's really jumpy a lot of the time and every time I try to bring it up, she tells me to drop it and immediately starts talking about something else or says she has to go study."

"She's probably stressed over the N.E.W.Ts.  Madame Pomfrey's already treated a bunch of students for panic attacks and other stress-related syndromes."

"Harry, I _know _her – and I know how worried she is about doing well on her finals, but that's not it.  You don't know how many times I've heard her crying in the middle of the night for no reason."

Harry didn't ask how he could have known that when they slept in separate dorms.  "I'm telling you its stress," he said adamantly.

"And how would you know?"  Ron challenged.  "It's not like you've been around to notice."

That wasn't Harry's fault.  They were the ones who had decided to cut him out of their lives.  "Why are you telling me this anyways?"

Ron spoke as if it was the hardest thing he ever had to say.  "Since I can't get her to talk to me, I thought she might open up to you.  You've been through enough encounters with Dementors."

"She's not going to be any more willing to talk to me," Harry informed him.  "Hermione's a big girl, Ron, she can take care of herself."

Ron took a step towards him and pointed a shaking finger at Harry's chest.  "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to come to you and ask for your help?"  His voice shook as he spoke.  "Do you think I wanted to tell you the woman I love can't even look at me anymore?  If you still care about Hermione in the slightest, you'll talk to her."

Seething with anger, Ron left Harry standing there.

Harry was still standing by his stress defense, but the conviction in which Ron had spoke, made him believe in the possibility that there was something else going on with Hermione.  Ron was wrong, though, about getting Hermione to talk to him.  He would be the last person she'd want to confide in.

The following morning when they were silently dressing for Lupin's early class, Ron gave no hint that the conversation the other day had even taken place.  He was probably even more upset now since Harry had not taken him seriously.  It wasn't as if Harry had completely disregarded what Ron had said.  He had watched Hermione during last night's dinner and other then a bit quiet she had appeared perfectly normal to him.  He was confident now that Ron was simply overreacting.

It was a surprisingly mild March morning as the Gryffindors filed out onto the grounds, where Lupin was already waiting for them.  He took Harry aside for a moment.

"Harry, I'd like you to stop by my office this evening.  There's an important matter we should discuss."

Harry returned to his classmates, confused as to why Lupin wanted to speak with him.  As far as he could remember he had handed in every single assignment in recent weeks and had received top marks.  Maybe Lupin had some news on Voldemort that he wanted to share with him.

Their professor was taking mercy on them that particular morning.  He told them they could spend the class reviewing any attack or defense method they wanted.  Many chose to practice the defense shield charm, while others decided to brush up on their skills with Medieval weapons, after having not done so well on the practical test the week before.

Harry spent the lesson sparring with Neville.  They took turns shouting spells and curses at one another, and by half way through the lesson Neville had completely mastered the disarming charm.  Now, with Harry's help he was trying to conjure an impenetrable defense shield – something he had always had problems with.

Harry chanced a look at his classmates now and then, and was amazed at how far they had all come.  They had mastered the most basic charms and curses and were well on their way to mastering the more advanced magic.

A yelp of pain, and someone yelling Ron's name, caught Harry and the rest of the classes' attention.  A very anxious looking Hermione was kneeling over Ron, who was clutching his chest in pain.  Lupin was at his side before anyone else could move.

"Ron, are you okay?"  Lupin asked, kneeling on the other side of him.

He nodded weakly.  "I didn't get my shield up in time," he rasped. 

Hermione looked a fretful mess – more then she ought to have for a simple training accident.  "Ron, I'm so sorry." 

"Don't apologize," said Ron, wincing when Lupin touched the spot on his chest that hurt.  "I was the one who was too slow."

"I think we've all had enough practice for today," Lupin announced, helping Ron to his feet.  "Excellent work, everyone.  I see many of you have been doing some extra practicing.  Please read chapter fifteen for homework and we'll discuss it in class tomorrow."

Lupin had barely finished speaking when Hermione started walking away – and not in the direction of the school either.  Harry could see that Ron was about to go after her, but in his current state it would take him some time to catch up to her.

"I'll go," Harry said to him.

Ron looked ready to protest, but remembering their early discussion, kept his mouth shut, and simply nodded.

At a light jog, Harry was quickly able to catch up to her. She was standing near the lake, a spot the three of them had visited many times over the years.

"Ron's going to be fine," he told her.  "I saw him laughing with Seamus on the way back to the castle."

She gave no indication that she had even heard him.

Trying a different approach, he said, "Ron's worried about you."

"Well, he shouldn't be.  I'm fine."

He didn't need to be her best friend for the last seven years to know that was a lie.

"I've had a lot of nightmares about Dementors," he said, walking over to her.  "I'll wake up in this cold sweat and it's hard to believe it wasn't real."

"When you're walking the halls," she began slowly, "do you expect them to jump out from every dark corner?"

"Not anymore," he answered, watching the giant squid skim the surface before diving out of sight again.  "It was a long time after I saw my first Dementor before that happened."

"I let the Dementor attack happen."

She wiped her eyes and Harry saw for the first time that she was crying.

"Of course you didn't.  You weren't the one who lead them to Hogwarts."

She shook her head, saying, "you don't understand.  When I saw them, I froze.  It was as if everything Professor Lupin had taught us was in a part of my brain I no longer had access to.  I was so scared, Harry," she said, turning red, puffy eyes on him.

"That's nothing to be ashamed of," he told her.  He tried to touch her arm reassuringly, but she snatched it away, not feeling deserving of his comfort.

"I couldn't help Ron.  I watched him try and battle the Dementors himself before one grabbed him from behind.  And don't tell me that it's all right because it isn't.  If Professor Lupin hadn't shown up…" she broke off, unable to finish the thought.

"Ron's not mad at you for what happened," said Harry gently.

"Well, he should be.  He did everything he could to fight them, and I couldn't even make so much as an effort to help him."

"It'll be different next time."

"No, it won't.  Except someone might die the next time."

"Hermione, you're being – "

"I want you to teach me."

He turned a stunned look on her.  "Wh-what?"

"You can battle the Dementors.  Your patronus takes on full, corporeal form.  There's no one better to teach me."  She made it sound like it was just another one of her brilliant ideas.

"Hermione, I don't know," he said, absently scratching the back of his head.  "I learned from Lupin.  You'd be better off to ask him."

"Harry, please," she begged, "and besides, you know the Dementors don't affect Lupin the same way."

He wanted to say no – he should have said no.  But Hermione seemed so desperate for his help, he felt he had no choice but to say yes.  She was thrilled when he did, but she had one condition.

"You have to promise you won't say anything to Ron."

"Why not?  He'll be glad that your – "

"If Ron knows you're helping me he's going to know that I'm not okay."

"But you're not okay!"  Harry exclaimed. 

He was already beginning to regret saying yes.  How did she expect to hide this from Ron anyways?  But he had already agreed to work with her, so he felt obligated to give her his word that he would not mention her private lessons to Ron.

"I can't tonight," she was saying excitedly, "but I'm sure we could find some unused classroom and meet tomorrow."

"Er, ok… sure."

She seemed so confident that their lessons together would make a difference.  Harry was as equally confident that disaster was imminent if she planned to hide this from Ron.

Ginny didn't know why she was silently dreading reaching Professor Lupin's office.  Lupin hadn't been angry or upset when he asked her to drop by after dinner.  She had a feeling his wanting to meet with her was because of her incomplete on the latest homework assignment.  She hadn't meant to neglect her schoolwork but she was so busy helping Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing on certain days that she tended to forget the occasional piece of homework.  She wondered if he planned on giving her detention tonight.  To her knowledge Lupin had never given a student detention before.

She went into the Dark Arts classroom that was adjoined with Lupin's office, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Ron and Hermione both sitting at desks.

"What are you doing here?"  Ron asked her.

"Professor Lupin wanted to see me," she responded.

"He asked to see us too," said Hermione, slightly confused.

Ginny made for the stairs up to her professor's office, but her brother stopped her.  "Don't bother, Ginny.  We already checked.  He's not here yet."

Ginny was finding it quite bizarre that Lupin had asked to speak to the three of them, when she heard the handle turn and the door creak open.  Harry walked in, looking every bit as puzzled as them.

Before Harry could fully walk inside, Ron got up from his desk and said, "I'm not waiting around any longer.  Hermione, tell me later what Professor Lupin said, will you?"

"Ron, please have a seat," said the voice of Remus Lupin walking in behind Harry.

Ron didn't look overly happy that he would have to stay, but he slid back into a desk nonetheless.

"I'm sure by now the four of you have guessed as to why I asked you here."

No one said anything, even Hermione didn't have an answer for Lupin.

"I've been watching you closely for weeks, hoping that you would mend things on your own so I wouldn't have to interfere."

"You could have saved yourself a lot of trouble, Professor, because it's not going to happen," Ron announced.

Ginny felt inclined to agree with her brother.

"I know I can't force the four of you to get along and put aside your differences.  The choice has to be yours.  Minerva will probably have my head for secretly bringing you together like this, but something had to be done.  You've become so wrapped up in your own petty arguments – and don't look at me like that because that's exactly what they are – you've completely lost sight of what's important."

"Professor – "

"Harry, please, let me finish," Lupin said, raising a hand to silence him.  "Do you realize that's what happened between all of you is everything Lord Voldemort could have hoped for?  You've become so divided and unfocused you've completely forgotten that the key to winning this war is working together.  How are you supposed to figure out what Dumbledore had so furitively been searching for if you can't even stand being in the same room together?"

"With all due respect sir, I don't think this any of your business," Ginny said, from where she was standing far away from the others.

"You're right, Ginny, it probably isn't, but you all know what's coming and that's why I feel I have to stress the importance of mending old wounds.  As I said before, I can't make you get along or even work together, but if any of you care about the safety of this school and the wizarding community, you'll try to work things out."  He regarded each of them pointedly before turning and exiting the room.

"Lupin's right," Harry spoke first when the door closed behind their professor.

"Then I hope you're going to be the first one to apologize," Ron growled.

"Ron, this isn't all Harry's fault," said Hermione.

Ron looked from Harry to her, glaring at each of them in turn.  "You two have made it up, have you?"

Hermione stared down at her hands.  "Well, sort of."

Ron snorted.  "Figures, you'd take his side then."

"Oh, Ron, grow up," said Ginny impatiently.  "She's not taking anyone's side."

"Will everyone shut up and listen to what I have to say?"  Harry said in an annoyed tone.  "Then we can decide afterwards if we want to keep bickering."

No one seemed to have any protests about that, not even Ron.

"It's gotten to the point where fixing blame isn't going to get us anywhere anymore.  I know that I've lost sight of what's important as well, even when I should know better then any of you what it is we're facing.  I'm not asking for anyone's forgiveness, because I'm not even sure I deserve it," he said, stopping and looking at each of them, letting his gaze linger on Ginny a bit longer then his friends.  "In three months we'll have the chance to go our separate ways and never see each other again if we don't want to – but if Voldemort wins we won't even get that opportunity.  No matter how hard everyone trains it's going to come down to me to fight him, and I'll do it alone if I have to, but I would much rather do knowing my friends are on my side.  That's all I wanted to say."

They were all quiet for a bit, until Ginny said, "you won't be alone."  She held his gaze, unwavering.

 No one else said a word after that, but one look at their faces told Harry everything he needed to know.  All might not be forgiven, but it was a start.


	25. First Steps To Reconciliation

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:  First Steps to Reconciliation   

        Hermione came to Harry during dinner the next day, telling him she had found the perfect place for them to practice in.  They had been unable to talk for more than a minute when Ron sat down, and all conversation regarding 'tutoring' lessons stopped.  

All plans for that night were postponed anyways when Lupin approached their table, something he very rarely did.  "If the three of you aren't busy tonight, there's something I'd like to show you.  Can you meet me in our classroom at eight o'clock?"

Harry and Hermione had no choice but to nod along with Ron.  They would have to hold off their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson for another night.

"What do you reckon Lupin wants to show us?" Ron asked on their way back to the common room.

"It's probably some more Dark Arts books he thinks we can use in our research," replied Hermione.

A few hours later they were heading back to their Dark Arts classroom, where Lupin was waiting for them.  After a brief chorus of hellos, he lead them back out into the hallway.  

Harry thought about asking where he was taking them, but knew Lupin would tell them when it became necessary.

Lupin came to a stop in front of one of Filch's broom cupboards.  He opened the door and indicated for them to go inside.  After checking the corridors to make sure no one was around, Lupin followed them inside.

Removing his wand from his robes, Lupin muttered, "_lumos_,"

He stood still for a moment, as if he were trying to remember something.  Then, with a look of triumph, he grabbed one of the loose bricks out from behind the shelf of cleaning supplies, and tapped it with his wand twice before shoving it back in place.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood and watched in amazement as the bricks on the near wall parted to form a doorway.  Open-mouthed, they heeded to their professor's urging and followed him inside.  The tunnel was completely dark, but before any of them could take out their wands, torches hanging on brackets overhead came to life, illuminating the path for them.  After a short distance, they came to a door that Lupin pushed open.

The room they walked into appeared to be very similar to the Gryffindor common room.  Squishy, comfortable-looking armchairs and sofas were neatly arranged in front of a roaring fire, and behind them was a long rectangular table, with three high backed wooden chairs.

"Welcome to the secret meeting place of Padfoot, Prongs, and Moony," announced Lupin, grinning at them.

It was brilliant in Harry's opinion, made even more so by the fact that it had been used by his father.

"It looks a lot like the common room," Hermione observed.

Lupin was still grinning, and his eyes were twinkling now as if he were remembering some fond memory.  "It does, doesn't it?  We never did figure out what it was used for originally.  We used it to lounge around in, plan pranks, do homework – at least I used it for homework.  As far as we knew, no one else at the time knew of its existence.  And it won't show up on the Marauder's Map either."

Harry turned to his Professor.  "Hang on, you said 'Padfoot, Prongs, and Moony', Wormtail doesn't know about this place?"  

Lupin nodded.  "This place was one of many secrets we didn't let him in on," he told Harry.  "I talked it over with Sirius, and we both think you might benefit from using this room.  You can bring whatever you need from Dumbledore's office here.  You'll attract less attention this way."

Harry couldn't believe this room had been there all this time, and he had never known about it.  He ran through a quick list in his mind of all the times it would have come in handy since he had first come to Hogwarts.  He figured he was not the only one who was wondering if Lupin's decision to bring them had anything to do with the fact that he was hoping the room would help mend their friendships some more.

The following night Hermione brought Harry to the room she had discovered for them to practice in.  It was on the fifth floor, down a deserted corridor.  All the rooms in that wing Hermione had learned were only in use during NEWT examinations, so that students couldn't plant any cheating devices.  There was nothing overly exciting about the room she had chosen.  Its stone walls were a bleak gray and there weren't any windows.  It felt rather confining to him.

Harry had secretly been hoping that after Professor Lupin's announcement that morning for any students who wanted extra Defense lessons to meet with him one night a week, that Hermione would want to join Lupin's group.  Instead, she had seen it as a brilliant opportunity to would work with both him _and_ Lupin.

It hadn't been as difficult as he had thought to get away from Gryffindor Tower slightly before curfew.  Hermione was extra prone to snapping people's heads off these days, that Ron barely registered a reply when she told him she was going to the library to study.  Harry had faked going to talk to Sirius using the fireplace in Dumbledore's office.  He was going to have to talk to Hermione about coming up with better excuses, otherwise Ron was bound to become suspicious.  He had brought the invisibility cloak along to sneak them both back into the common room unnoticed.

Harry soon learned that Hermione wanted to practice every defensive and attack method Lupin had taught them in class.  He was somewhat relieved by that because he really didn't want to jump into Dementor's and Patronus' on their first lesson together.  He decided to start off with some simple disarming charms – all of which Hermione had already mastered, before starting on some of the more difficult curses and counter curses Lupin had showed them to break through an enemy's shield.  After a bit of prodding, Hermione performed the curses on him, but was unable to break through his defensive shield.  It only took Harry three tries before he broke through hers.  By that time he decided they should take a short break.

"You know, I still don't understand why you want me to work with you.  You know all the spells and everything already," said Harry, opening a flask of water.

Opening her own flask, she said, "but all that knowledge didn't help me break through your barriers, did it?"  She said with a note of irritation in her voice.

Harry chose not to comment further.  Hermione was so smart at everything that it must have been killing her there was one subject she hadn't yet mastered – actually two, but Divination didn't really count.

"I really am happy for you and Ron," he said quietly.  "I know I was a real jerk before when you told me, but Ron must really love you if he thinks you two can still be together when you go away."

"I didn't tell him," she said her voice even lower then his had been.

Harry gave her a hard look.  "Hermione, you should have told him."

"I know that – and don't think I don't feel guilty every time I think about it."

"He'll understand." 

"Are we talking about the same person?"  She said, feeling a sudden surge of anger.  "He won't understand, Harry.  He'll think I want to leave him."

Harry acknowledged that Ron would likely be devastated by the news, but he didn't tell her that.  After all, he was the one trying to convince her to tell him.  "It's not fair to him, you keeping this huge secret."

"Harry, I've _tried_ telling him, but it's so hard," she said, her voice faltering slightly.

"It's supposed to be hard," he tried telling her.  He couldn't really offer up anything more than that.  He only had limited relationship experience, and nothing on the scale of what Hermione and Ron had.  Putting the water flask away he turned to her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before saying, "I think that if Ron really loves you, he won't ask you to give up what you've spent the better part of seven years working towards."

Harry made it all sound so simple but she _knew_ Ron, and she knew his reaction would be anything but logical and rational.  She was sure that Harry felt the same, but he was refraining from saying so.  

"How did you know Ron was the one you wanted to be with?"

Hermione fought to keep a look of surprise from crossing her features.  Harry rarely ever asked her anything so personal regarding her relationship with Ron.  She could see by the way he was fidgeting and playing with the cap on the flask, that it had been an extremely difficult _and_ uncomfortable thing for him to ask.  She never asked what he and Ron talked about when she wasn't around, but this was a line they had never crossed in their friendship before.  She had never really felt comfortable opening up to him about Ron, partially because she never wanted to put him in the middle like she and Ron often tended to do when they fought.  She wondered if his curiousity had anything to do with Ginny, even if it didn't it was significant progress for Harry to open himself up about what he was feeling.

"It's not something I can really describe," she said finally.

Harry's face went even redder.  "It's all right, I shouldn't have asked," he said hurriedly. "I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, it's fine," she said to him.  "After everything Ron and I have shared, I just know that I would never want to be with anyone else."  She knew by now she must be blushing horribly, but it was only Harry, and he _had _asked.  "Does that make any sense?"

He nodded, but didn't meet her gaze.  Hermione would have given anything at that moment to know what was going on in that head of his for once.

  "You could ask him to go with you," Harry said after several seconds had passed.

She really wished he would let that go.  The guilt building inside her was growing unbearable.  "I can't," she told him.  "I can't ask Ron to give up his life here – his friends and family, any more than he can ask me to give up pursuing my own path."

Harry seemed to accept that answer, but the reality that she had to tell Ron was weighing more heavily in her mind then ever before.  

When they began sparring again, she thought about telling him she still wasn't sure if going to Switzerland was what she wanted.  But it would have been a pointless attempt because he wasn't any more likely to believe it now then he had during the Christmas holidays.  She wasn't so sure she would have believed herself either.

"I took the liberty of making schedules for the three of us to ensure we have enough time to do homework, study for N.E.W.T.S and continue with the research."

Hermione handed a piece of parchment to Ron and Harry, while the three of them were on their way to their Charms classroom.  Normally, the halls would be crowded with students on the way to their next class, but more and more lately the halls seemed to be thinning out as parents pulled their children out.

Ron didn't even look the parchment before shoving it in his school bag.  "Hermione, you don't need to make a schedule for everything."

She threw him an irritated look.  "I _don't_ make schedules for everything.  I just want to make sure we don't forget anything."

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey about one of those stress relief potions," Harry suggested.

It was obviously the wrong thing to say because Hermione turned on him next.  "Maybe I wouldn't be so stressed out if I didn't have to worry about making sure you two study enough and pass your N.E.W.T.S with decent marks.  Excuse me for caring about your future," she huffed.

Harry wanted to ask Ron if she had been like this during the weeks when they had not been speaking, but thought better of it.

"Hey, Ginny!"  Ron shouted to be heard above the crowd of students.

She was heading in the opposite direction but when Ron beckoned her over, she changed course.

"Listen, Harry, I've been thinking that we should tell Ginny about the room Lupin showed us," Hermione said in a hushed tone.  "I think it's only fair because she was helping us before.  But I wanted to check with you first."

"I've been thinking about it too," he admitted, keeping his voice low enough so it wouldn't carry.  "I've been meaning to ask her but I haven't got around to it." 

When Ginny had almost reached them, she touched his arm and whispered, "it's all right to still care, Harry."  

He wanted to say that he didn't, but somehow didn't think his voice would sound all that convincing.

Ron pulled out a letter from his bag and handed it to his sister.  "It's from mum.  You'd already left when the post arrived."

The paper had barely touched her hand when Hermione was dragging Ron away, saying, "we should get going so we're not late for class."

"You coming, Harry?"  Ron asked.

Harry opened his mouth but Hermione answered for him.  "He'll be along in a minute." 

"What was that all about?"  Ginny asked watching her brother being hauled away by Hermione.

"Nothing," Harry answered a bit too quickly.  "I think all the pressure is finally getting to her."

Ginny felt inclined to agree.  She shoved the letter in her robe pocket and made as if to start walking again.

"Er, there's something I wanted to tell you," Harry said before she could take more than a step.  "I know you have to get to class and I don't want to make you late, so I just need a second."

She couldn't remember the last time he had acted so nervous around her.  That in itself made her curious enough to hang around to hear what he had to say.  They had only spoken very little since she had joined the trio in their research, and even then the conversation seemed forced to her. 

"Potter and the littlest Weasley are smoothing things over I see." 

Harry tensed, but he didn't turn around.  He didn't need this from Malfoy right now.  He steered Ginny down the corridor, hoping to find a bit more private spot.

"Lupin showed me something that I wanted to –"

"I thought you had more self-respect then that, Potter," Malfoy taunted.  

"Malfoy, I'm warning you, sod off!"  Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Or maybe you just have a thing for sluts.  First there was that Cho Chang, and now Weasley – "

Harry's fist connected with Malfoy's jaw the millisecond after the word 'Weasley' was out of his mouth.  Malfoy stumbled back, and not waiting for him to regain his balance, Harry hit him again.  This time he connected with the Slytherin's nose.  Malfoy dropped to the floor, clutching his nose, which was gushing an enormous amount of blood.  Harry refused to let up.  He kept pounding Malfoy mercilessly, again and again in a sort of blind rage, until someone grabbed the scruff of his robes and threw him off.

Snape was grasping his robes, holding him back as he struggled to break free.

"I'm warning you, Potter," Snape said icily, taking his wand out of his robes.  "You've already given me more than enough reason to use this."

McGonagall had appeared amidst the commotion and was bent over a barely conscious Draco Malfoy, who was moaning loudly.

"Severus, help me get him to the hospital wing," she said to him.  Then she turned her steely gaze on Harry.  "Potter, go to my office right now, and wait for me there!"

While Snape conjured up an invisible stretcher for Malfoy, Harry finally noticed the huge crowd that had formed.  Everybody was staring at him and his blood covered knuckles.  Even Ginny was staring at him, a mixture of horror and dismay on her face.  Without offering up any explanations, he took off for McGonagall's office.

McGonagall didn't keep Harry waiting long.  She stormed into the office, slamming the door shut behind her with such force everything in the room shook.  She handed him a wet washcloth so he could clean his blood-crusted knuckles, but that was the extent of her kindness.

"Potter I do not have the words to express how much trouble you are in.  Mr. Malfoy has suffered severe injuries as the result of your _attack_.  Even if you were provoked – which I have no doubt you were – that does not give you the right to beat a student within an inch of his life, is that understood?"

Harry managed a weak nod.  McGonagall's expression did not change.  Harry's response seemed to neither satisfy her nor enrage her more.

"I'm afraid that I have no choice but to punish you severely," she continued.  "The kind of behaviour you have demonstrated today is grounds for expulsion, Potter."

Harry gripped the arms of his chair so tight his knuckles were turning white.  How could he have allowed himself to do something so completely and utterly stupid?  How was he supposed to defend Hogwarts if he wasn't even allowed on its grounds?

 "However, these are not normal circumstances," she continued.  "I will not expel you this time, but Potter I'm warning you, if you pull a stunt like this again I wouldn't be able to protect you."

Despite the severity of her words, Harry suddenly found himself comparing her to Dumbledore.  He would have done the same thing probably.

"For two weeks, you will not be allowed any contact with any of your fellow students.  You will be given a private lesson with each of your professors whenever it is convenient for them.  All meals will be brought to a room that well be made up specifically for you.  You will not speak to anyone who is not a teacher during that time.  Is that understood?"

It was funny that the first thought that came to mind was that Hermione was going to kill him.  For two weeks he wouldn't be able to work with her – at least she still had Lupin.

"Potter, please remember what I said about staying in line," said McGonagall in a slightly softer tone.  "Next time, you will be dealing with the new Headmaster.  Unfortunately, I have no say in the school governor's voting on a new Headmaster, and there is a good chance that Lucious Malfoy will take Dumbledore's spot."

"Professor, you can't let that happen!"  Harry blurted out.  Lucious Malfoy was a Death Eater.  All they needed was one of Voldemort's personal servants controlling the school.

"Potter, I have no more control over who becomes Headmaster, then from making the sun rise every morning.  I, along with every other teacher in this school has lodged a formal protest, but that is all we can do, without risking our jobs.  If we're fired then someone else on Lucious Malfoy's payroll we'll take our teaching positions – one of the few things we still have control over."

"Why can't you take Dumbledore's place?"

McGonagall scowled.  "Lucious has succeeded in convincing the governors that I can not take on the roll of Headmaster and adequately continue to prepare my students for O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.s."

There was no way Harry was going to ever accept Malfoy's father as the next Headmaster.  But given the position he was in at the moment, there was nothing he could do to stop it – except get himself in even deeper trouble.

McGonagall seemed finished with talking about Lucious Malfoy, for she said, "please pack up what you need from your dormitory, and meet me back here in one hour where I'll show you to your new room."

Harry left her office fully dreading the next two weeks.  It wasn't so much because of his punishment – Malfoy had deserved every blow he had given him – but because the next time he walked in the Headmaster's office it wouldn't be Dumbledore's anymore.  


	26. Just Friends

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:  Just Friends

        "Here you go, Miss Granger," said Madame Pomfrey, handing her a small beaker filled with a dull gray liquid.  "You can tell Professor Snape that it would have kind of him to inform me that so many of his students would be needing my skin regenerative potion.  I'm going to have to make another batch at this rate."

        She hurried off to start checking on the few patients she had lying in the hospital wing without giving Hermione a chance to say thank you.

        "Don't feel bad.  At least you've given me something to do now," Ginny said brightly, who had been watching the exchange.  "What do you need it for anyways?"

        "Snape wants us to be able to take apart the potion molecule by molecule to determine what magical properties and ingredients are in it," Hermione answered her.  "He says something similar will be on the NEWTS."

        A loud groan sounded from several feet away followed by a pained voice saying, "I think my sight has been permanently damaged.  Now what will I do with all those Quidditch prospects?"

        "He's been doing that since yesterday," Ginny said in a hushed tone, staring down where the curtains were closed around a single bed.  "There was so much blood and bruising that I could hardly even tell it was Malfoy.  As soon as he regained consciousness he was demanding to speak to his father.  I think he's going to press charges."

        "He won't," Hermione said with a surge of confidence she didn't quite feel.  "He won't want it to become public knowledge that Harry beat him within an inch of his life and he didn't get one swing in."

        Ginny still wasn't convinced.  "He was in pretty rough shape.  Madame Pomfrey doesn't think they'll be any lasting damage but she wants to keep him here for a few extra days just to be sure."  

Malfoy was still making the occasional moaning noise when he wasn't locked in conversation with whom Hermione suspected was Crabbe and Goyle.  "I don't think Harry meant to go quite so far," she said in her friend's defense. 

        Ginny's expression darkened.  "I think he did.  I've never seen him so – so – "

        "Out of control?"

        "I was going to say crazy." 

        That was the only word she could think of that described Harry's behaviour.  She had seen him angry many times, and she thought she had experienced the worst of his temper, but that obviously wasn't the case.  And what had it accomplished anyways?  Malfoy wasn't likely to change his views on her or her family even in death.  Harry had just played right into his hand.  Though she was sure Malfoy hadn't been expecting the severe beating he had gotten.

        "He's not allowed contact with anyone for two weeks," Hermione told her, declining to comment on Ginny's last remark.  "He came back to Gryffindor Tower to pack his things and then he was gone."

        "A small part of me can't help but feel happy for what he did because he was defending me.  That's sick, isn't it?"

        "Harry's a lot of things but he's not a monster.  He still cares for you a lot more then he would like, even if he won't say it."

        "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Hermione, but I don't need any cheering up in the Harry department," Ginny said to her.  "I should probably check with Madame Pomfrey and see if she wants me to get started on that skin regenerative potion."

        She left for Madame Pomfrey's office, not wanting to give Hermione a chance to say any more.  As far as she was concerned, Harry was an off-limit topic.  It never got her anywhere discussing him, except for a loss of concentration and one gigantic headache.

        There was no reason for Hermione to stay after that.  She hadn't meant to chase Ginny away, but in her mind she and Harry were being beyond stupid.  Harry would of course kill her if he knew what she had said, but the two of them were so deep in denial she felt she had to speak up.  Ron would tell her not to get involved, largely because Ginny was his sister and didn't want to see her mixed up with Harry again, but she wasn't interfering, not really.  There wasn't any harm in speaking a few truthful statements, was there?

        On her way out of the hospital wing she had to pass by Malfoy's bed.  She noticed then she hadn't heard him complain in awhile.  In fact, there didn't seem to be any noise coming from behind the drawn curtains, but she knew Crabbe and Goyle still had to be there because she had not seen them leave.

        She moved to the edge of the curtains and listened.

        "Father will take care of Potter when he becomes Headmaster here, but that's not soon enough for me," Malfoy was saying in a voice barely above a whisper.  "He'll pay for this."

        "What are you going to do?"  It sounded like Goyle asking.

        "I haven't figured that out yet, but I'll make sure he suffers.  I'm going to knock him off that high horse of his for good, now that Dumbledore's around to protect him anymore."

        Hermione quickly drew away from the curtains at the sound of scraping chairs.  She hurried out of the hospital wing before they could notice her presence.  She had known Malfoy wouldn't stand idle and let Harry off the hook, but it sounded like it was a lot more then simple revenge he was planning.  For Harry's sake, she was glad he was locked away somewhere safe in the castle.

        On Harry's fourth day of isolation, McGonagall informed him during their one-on-one Transfiguration lesson that he would be allowed to attend Lupin's extra Defense class if he wished.  With no outside contact, except with that of his professors and the house elf that brought him his meals, he had been craving human contact, and this was his chance.  He thought McGonagall looked a bit sorry for him, but she started the Transfiguration lesson before he could be sure.

        In the early evening, the Headmistress came by to escort him to the Great Hall.  He found he was extremely nervous at the prospect of walking into a room full of people who had last seen him beating another student mercilessly almost to the point of unconsciousness.  

        He had been wondering what he would do if he saw Malfoy there, but along the way McGonagall had explained that the opportunity for extra Defense lessons was so popular that Lupin was having to do it two nights a week.  On this night, he was seeing Gryffindor and Hufflepuff at seven o'clock, and the next night it would be Slytherin and Ravenclaw.  Harry had a feeling the Gryffindors and Slytherins had been separated on purpose.

        McGonagall left him at the entrance to the Great Hall, telling him that Professor Lupin would escort him back to his room at the end of the lesson.  Harry almost wished it could have been Snape escorting him back.  He could tell during his private Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons that Lupin was severely disappointed in him.  He never mentioned the incident, but Harry could read the disappointment in his eyes clearly.  Lupin was the only person who made him feel guilty about what he had done, and he wished now he could go back and stop himself from giving in to Malfoy's taunts so easily. 

        It wasn't the first time that he walked into a room causing almost a hushed silence to fall.  He ignored the stares and whispering behind hands as best he could.  He tried not to make it too obvious that he was heading over to Ron and Hermione, who were already partnered up.

        "All right, I want everyone to think of this as a review class," Lupin began, calling them all to order.  "With your partners, I want you to start working on anything you're having trouble with.  I'll come around to each pair in turn and offer any assistance."

        "How you doing, mate?"  Ron asked, as equally surprised as the rest to see him.

        "All right," Harry lied.  He saw Lupin was watching them, and decided he better move on and find a partner.

        He was moving off when Hermione jammed a folded piece of parchment into his hand.  She mouthed _don't read it here_ before turning back to Ron.  More than a little puzzled, Harry obliged and slid the paper into his trouser pocket.

        Harry was one of the few people still without a partner, but he was sure the students without one would have gladly worked alone then with him.  He felt like he was back in second year when no one wanted to go near him because they had all thought he was the Heir of Slytherin.

        He was scanned the room looking for Neville or any other yet un-partnered person from Gryffindor, and found himself stumbling into the person crossing in front of his path.  Before he could stammer out an apology, Ginny was already moving on.

        "Need a partner?"  He asked, moving quickly to stop her.

        She looked at him hesitantly and he was sure she was going to say 'no', when she gave a quick nod of her head.  Together they moved to a spot in the room where there was ample space to practice in.

        "Malfoy was released today," she said, taking out her wand.

        Harry took out his own wand, but was silent because he wasn't sure what she expected him to say to that.

        "You must be pretty pleased with yourself.  Half of Gryffindor thinks you're a hero."

        "Why are you attacking me?  I never said I was proud of what I did."

        Ginny didn't have an answer for him.  She honestly had no idea why she was attacking him.  Maybe it was because she had gotten so used to their conversations ending badly that she wanted to get the upper hand for once.  Strangely enough, it didn't seem like he wanted to fight with her.  

        "I want to show you something," he said, dropping his voice so no one would overhear.  "I meant to do it earlier but, well, things happened."

        "Harry, we can't just walk out of here," she said, slightly exasperated at what he was suggesting.  "Someone will notice us."

        "I don't think they will," he said, looking around.  Everyone seemed to be so engrossed in what they were doing to even pay them any attention.  "We'll be back before anyone notices we're gone," he promised.

        He gave her one last pleading look and she gave in.

They used the students as a cover to sneak out of the Great Hall unnoticed by Professor Lupin.  She wanted to ask where they were going, but decided against it in case their voices carried.  Harry was already in enough trouble as it was without someone finding out he sneaking around the castle with her. 

        When he opened the door to a broom closet and told her to get inside, she couldn't suppress her curiousity any longer.  When she heard the door click shut behind them, she said, "Harry, this is closet.  Can you tell me what we're doing here?"

        He chose not to answer her.  She watched as he reached around some cleaning supplies to pull out a loose brick from the wall.  He tapped it twice with his wand before putting it back.  She was clueless as to what he had just done, when a doorway made out of the same bricks on the wall appeared and swung open.  Her mouth fell open and she stood there completely stunned.

        "Come on," he urged, leading the way through the narrow tunnel.

        When they reached the comfortably decorated common room, Ginny was still staring around in awe.

        "Lupin showed us this place," he said, watching her.  "He used to come here when he was at Hogwarts, and he thought we could use it."

        She interpreted 'us' to be him, Ron, and Hermione.  "It's so cozy," she said looking at the roaring fire.  "But why did you bring me here?"

        Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.  "You've been helping with the research.  You have as much a right to use it as I do.  And it looks like I won't be using it for awhile."

        She was speechless.  She hadn't been expecting this kindness from him, but she promised herself not to read too much into it.

        Scratching the back of his head, Harry indicated back towards the way they had come.  "We should probably get back."

        She followed him through the tunnel again and back to the broom closet.  When they were in the close confinements of the closet, she leaned close to his ear and said, "thanks."

        Before she could stop herself, she leaned forwards and kissed his cheek.  Feeling encouraged when he didn't look repulsed or shove her away, she leaned forward again, this time kissing him on the mouth.  Harry's reaction was instantaneous.  He claimed her lips in response, reaching behind her back to pull her closer and sending shockwaves of electricity through both their bodies.  But just as quickly as it had started it was over.  The second Harry realized what he was doing, he gently grabbed her arms and pushed her away.

        Clearing his throat he said, "you should go first.  If someone asks where you were just say in the loo."  He wouldn't look at her, but with the dim lighting in the closet from their wands she could see his cheeks were flushed.  She had a feeling her face was in a similar condition.

        Ginny opened the door and walked back out into the corridor.  No matter how bad she wanted to she forced herself not to look back at Harry.  How was it that being alone with him for ten minutes could cause her to lose all sense of reasoning?  Even knowing it was a mistake she could not afford to let happen again, she was finding it hard not to think that maybe Hermione was right.  She tried reasoning that even if Hermione was right, she would be able to handle simply being Harry's friend – and nothing more.


	27. Out In The Open

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:  Out in the Open

        There was something to be said about the amount of noise surrounding the Great Hall on Thursday morning.  With the weekend so near, many of the students were already making plans for Saturday.  For Harry, he could care less about what day it was.  His two-week separation from everyone was finally over.  Such a routine thing like eating at the Gryffindor table seemed to put him in a good mood.  He had of course felt a bit awkward at first joining his house table after a fourteen day hiatus, but once a conversation broke out between himself and Dean about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup in the summer, it was as if he had never been away.

        "Did you read my note?"  Hermione asked, sitting down and swinging her legs around the bench.

        Swallowing a mouthful of cereal, Harry said, "hi, Hermione.  It's good to see you too.  I'm fine after being alone for the last two weeks with no one to talk to, thanks for asking."

        "Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.  This was the first conversation they had had since Lupin's initial extra Defense class and she had completely bypassed even a simple hello.  "Well, did you?"

        "Yeah, I read it."

        She was taken aback by his nonchalant attitude.  "You don't seem overly concerned."

        He shrugged, taking another mouthful of cereal.  "Why should I?  It's Malfoy.  He's been threatening the three of us since day one.  It's getting a bit tiresome."

        "Harry, I was there.  This wasn't one of Malfoy's usual empty threats, okay?  You hurt him – badly, and he wants payback."

        "Then tell him he can take a number and wait in line like everyone else."

        "This isn't some simple school boy's grudge anymore, Harry," she said, trying to impress upon him the seriousness of the situation.  "I can't believe the whole light attitude you're taking about this."

        "Lecturing him already?  Leave the poor bloke alone, Hermione, he's been in complete isolation for two weeks," said Ron, sliding onto the bench beside her.

        "If Harry would just take me seriously – "

        "Drop it, Hermione," Harry said, with some edge in his voice.  He didn't want Ron to know what they were discussing.  He was bound to get as worked up about it as Hermione.

        "What are you two fighting about?"  Ron asked, looking from Hermione to Harry.

        "It's nothing, Ron," Harry said before Hermione could speak.  

        Hermione was silently glaring at him, but she kept her mouth shut.  Ron still had his suspicions that it was not _nothing_, but they both seemed to be in such foul moods by this point that he didn't want to put himself in the middle of whatever row they were having.

        It was one of the few times Harry was grateful to be going to Divination, because it meant that he wouldn't have to endure Hermione nagging him about Malfoy all morning.  As it turned out, he didn't have to worry about her mentioning it for the rest of the day.  She simply refused to speak to him at all.  Harry didn't try getting her to talk to him either.  If she wanted to be ridiculous and blow the whole thing out of proportion that was her business – he had enough to deal with.  He figured if it were like any of the fights she had with Ron, she'd be speaking to him again by tomorrow morning.

        Ginny Weasley thought hard, her brow furrowed in concentration.  "Proteus and Triton… those are the last two right?"

        Harry looked down at the open book in his hands and wordlessly shook his head.

        "Are you sure?  Neptune only has eight moons and I know I didn't miss any."

        She took the book from him, quickly scanning the page with her index finger, before taking the textbook and hitting Harry in the arm with it, who laughed loudly.

        "You're a right prat, Harry," she said, pretending to be angry with him.  "Next time I think I'd be better off studying for Astronomy on my own."

        Harry pretended to look hurt.  "I'll have you know I'm a fantastic study partner," he said proudly.

        "Says who?  My brother?"  She teased, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

        The door to the 'room of research' – as Hermione had adequately named the cozy room Lupin had showed them – creaked open, and the Head Girl herself entered, cradling a lone book in her arms.  Harry was about to tell her she should give herself a break and take the night off from research when he remembered they weren't speaking.

        "If you still want help with Potions we should get to work on it," she said to him.

        Helping him with Potions was the code Hermione had developed for whenever one of them needed to mention their secret defense lessons in the presence of someone else.  It made sense, considering Harry was indeed just scraping by with a half decent mark in Snape's class.

         "I don't think I'm going to bother with it tonight," he said firmly.

        "It's important," she insisted.

        Blowing out an impatient breath, he turned to Ginny, "if you want to review some more I can stay."

        She waved her hand dismissively.  "Don't worry about it.  Go study with Hermione, I'll be fine."

        He wanted to say more, but it felt weird with Hermione watching them.  As soon as they were out of the room and taking the tunnel back to the broom closet, he knew she was itching to ask about him and Ginny.  But she had the presence of mind not to ask knowing their argument from early that morning still hung between them.

        When they were back out into the hallway she handed him the book she had been carrying.  "I checked this out of the restricted section," she told him.  "Now that Professor Lupin has allowed us to borrow books from there, I thought we should make the most of it."

        Frowning, Harry read the title aloud, "_Arming Yourself Against Deadly Assassins_."  He snorted.  "And they call Mad-Eye Moody paranoid."

        "If you're not going to do anything to protect yourself I thought you would at least read this," she said, ignoring his comment.

        "Hermione, this is ridiculous," he said, finding it particularly difficult to keep from shouting.  "Malfoy's all talk, you know that."

        Hermione was rapidly losing her patience with him.  "I was right about Ginny and that nightmare spell she was doing, wasn't I?"

"Let this go, all right?"  He snapped at her.  "I've got enough on my mind without worrying about whether Crabbe or Goyle planted a canary cream on my dessert plate." He shoved the book back in her hands before angrily storming off down the hall.

        The sick feeling in Harry's stomach that had started since joining his house table was bordering on severe nausea while he watched Professor McGonagall speak to the assembled students and faculty.  He really wanted to know how his Head of House could stand there and say what she was saying without looking like she wanted to retch.

        "Lucius Malfoy has always been a very generous contributor to this school," McGonagall began, and failing somewhat to keep the note of disgust out of her voice.  "And the school governors have decided that in this time of crisis there is no one better suited to take up Albus Dumbledore's honoured position as Headmaster of Hogwarts."

        The corners of McGonagall's face twitched slightly, and Harry had a feeling she was fighting off a look of revulsion.  She sat down and Lucius Malfoy, sitting at the center of the table – the spot that had been vacant since Dumbledore's death – stood up.

        The students at the Slytherin table stood up to applaud and whistle loudly, while the rest of the House tables and professors remained seated, applauding only for the sake that it was a nicety.  

        Lucius Malfoy grinned broadly at the assembled students, but there was no kindness in that smile.  "I was as surprised as the rest of you when the Head Governor came to me home last night to inform me that I had been chosen to replace the late Albus Dumbledore," he said to all of them, though his tone showed he had been anything but surprised.  "I promised him that he would not be disappointed in his choice.  I will do everything in my power to protect this school, and to ensure that each student – no matter what his or her background, be treated with the utmost fairness."

        Harry's hands balled into fists under the table and Ron put a protective arm around Hermione when Lucius Malfoy let his gaze fall on her as he spoke those last words.

        There was another short round of polite applause, and it was hardly finished when Hermione said to them both, "let's get out of here."

        There was no argument from Ron or Harry and they began pushing their way through the other students, equally as grateful to finally be able to leave.  They weren't fast enough though, because Malfoy purposely cut a path towards them so they would meet up at the entrance.

        "I think it's fair to say this school will finally be run the way it's supposed to be," Malfoy sneered, flanked on either side by Crabbe and Goyle.  "Father says mudbloods will be the first to go," he stated, glaring icily at Hermione, "followed by anyone else who doesn't embrace proper wizarding values."

        Ron stepped protectively in front of Hermione.  "Keep saying things like that, you slimy bastard – "

        "I'd watch what you say from now on, _Weasel_," Malfoy interrupted, not at all phased by the threatening sound in Ron's voice.  "The new Headmaster will have you thrown out of here faster then you can say 'poorhouse'."

        Crabbe and Goyle sniggered appreciatively.

        "Let's go, Ron," Harry urged his friend.  He had just gotten out of being isolated from his classmates and was not keen on the idea of having to endure it again.

        "Not so tough now, are you, Potter?"  Malfoy taunted.  "Don't think I've forgotten how much I _owe _you."

        Harry crossed his arms over his chest and moved so he and Ron were standing side-by-side.  Together, they looked impressively intimating.  "You talk a big game, now that daddy's here to protect you."  

        "You have no idea what you're in for, Potter," said Malfoy darkly.

        He thumped Harry's shoulder hard with his own before stalking passed with Crabbe and Goyle at his heels.

        "He's all talk, Harry," Ron assured his friend.  "He doesn't even have the guts to come up to us unless Crabbe and Goyle are at his side."

        He went to voice his agreement but catching the disapproving look Hermione was throwing his way, settled for simply nodding his head instead.

        Harry wondered what had happened to the Saturday nights when they would lounge around Gryffindor Tower, he and Ron playing wizard's chess, and Hermione reading a book with her feet curled up on Ron's lap.  Now, day and night seemed to be comprised of finishing off assignments, researching through the mountainous pile of books from Dumbledore's office, and squeezing in any amount of time no matter how small for N.E.W.T.s revisions.  

        It was still early in the evening, but Harry was finding it very difficult to concentrate.  He was still to riled up about Lucius Malfoy's nomination to Head Master the other day.  Ron was equally as angry.

        "I wonder what curse he threatened the governor's families with?"  Ron wondered aloud.

        "He probably just paid them off," said Harry.  "Malfoy's like to throw their money around."

        "Are you two going to talk about anything else?"  Hermione said irritably.  "I've had to listen to the both of you spend all day cursing Malfoy's father.  If only you put half that effort into your N.E.W.Ts revision you two wouldn't be so far behind." 

        "I want to know how you can sit there and study when there's a known muggle-born hater running our school now," Ron said to her.

        "I don't like Malfoy's father any more then you do, but we have to be careful," she said to them both.  "You know Lucius Malfoy's going to look for anything he can to get rid of Harry, and the same goes for you, Ron.  He's made it publicly clear how he feels about your family – and mine," she added silently.

        "Nothing's going to happen to you," said Ron, getting up and kneeling in front of her.  He clutched her hands tightly in his.  "I won't let Draco or his father lay a hand on you.  I don't care if they expel me for it."

        "But Ron, you have to care.  If they throw you out you won't graduate and – "

        "I think she's feeling better, now," said Ron, grinning at Harry.

        Harry, who had been starting to feel that maybe he should leave because this was turning into a private moment between the two of them, felt the awkwardness subside, and grinned back at Ron.

        "At least all the magical barriers protecting the school are still in place," Harry said brightly.  "We won't have to worry about any of Lucius Malfoy's Death Eater apparating on school grounds."

        When Ron nodded his acknowledgement, Hermione broke free of his grasp and threw her hands up in exasperation.  "Honestly, are you two ever going to read _Hogwarts, A History_?"

        Ron threw her a lopsided grin and patted her leg.  "Why would we when we've got our own walking, talking version right here."

        She rolled her eyes at him before speaking.  "The magical barriers currently protecting Hogwarts were put in place by Professor Dumbledore."

        "Look at that, Harry, we actually knew something from _Hogwarts, A History_ without even reading it."

        Hermione turned a scowl on him and continued.  "Professor Dumbledore had to put those barriers in place after the last Headmaster died, because after death the magic in place eventually disappears."

        Harry quickly understood where she was going with this.  "So you're saying that with Dumbledore gone, it's only a matter of time before his spells break down and Hogwarts is defenseless?"

        She gave a small nod.  "But no one knows exactly when that will happen.  Dumbledore was a very powerful wizard.  The residual magic he left behind could last for decades."

        "But there's no guarantees, right?"  Ron said.

        She nodded again.  "That's why Professor McGonagall started sending the younger students home everyone home.  She didn't know how long they would be protected here."

        Ron's face darkened.  "I guess it's safe to say that _Headmaster_ Malfoy won't be in a hurry to set up any new protection barriers."

        After that, they made the unspoken decision to drop the subject of Lucius Malfoy and the safety of Hogwarts for the night.  At the moment, there was nothing they could do about either one of those things.  Harry was positive that the teachers of the school were already working on a new protection spell.  He could not envision McGonagall leaving the school unprotected for any length of time.

Harry and Ron actually managed to get in a few hours of decent studying, without Hermione harassing them to do so, before Ron looked at his watch and swore under his breath when he saw the time.  He announced he was going to bed, and tried to convince the two of them to do the same.  When that didn't work, he kissed Hermione goodnight – causing Harry to immerse himself deeply in the page he was reading.  Afterwards he said goodnight to Harry, and the two of them exchanged a quick look before Ron trudged up the stairs to the boys dorm.  

A couple of hours after Ron's departure, the common room had emptied out completely.  Harry's vision was becoming more and more blurry that he was having to remove his glasses and rub his eyes every five minutes.

        "So did you get the night shift tonight?"  Hermione asked, while her quill scratched away on the parchment in front of her.

        "Sorry?"

        She stopped writing and looked at him.  "You two haven't let me out of your sight since Professor McGonagall announced Malfoy's father as the new Headmaster.  I appreciate how much you and Ron want to protect me, and maybe it was even a little endearing at first having my own personal bodyguards, but now it's starting to border on smothering.  I'd like to be able to go to the loo without Ron standing outside, scaring anyone who comes near."

        "We should be careful, you said so yourself," Harry pointed out.

        "Draco's father has waited too long for this opportunity.  He's not going to get careless and start killing off muggleborns.  He's here for a reason, and that's to be a spy for Voldermort.  He won't jeopardized that position and make his Dark Lord unhappy."

        "Still - "

        "Harry, go to bed, _please_," she said, exasperated.  "He can't get into Gryffindor Tower."

        "Maybe that's not the reason I'm waiting up."

        "Of course, that's the reason!  You're just as bad as Ron, honestly," she said, shaking her head and trying to sound annoyed, which was rather difficult because he and Ron were just trying to look out for her.

        "I was wondering how late you were going to make me stay up before you open that letter you got from the Swiss Ministry of Magic."  She didn't say anything, but her change in expression told Harry he was right.  "I saw your reaction when the post arrived this morning, and the way you shoved your letter into your bag, saying it was from your mum."

        "You weren't supposed notice," she said, smiling slightly.  

        "Stop stalling, and open it," he ordered her.  When she scowled, he said cheekily, "it's not fun being bossed around, is it?"

        Normally, she would have a clever retort in mind, but her fingers were trembling so bad as she pulled the envelope from her schoolbag, she couldn't think straight.  Ever so carefully, she opened it and pulled out the contents, which consisted of a single piece of parchment.  She started unfolding it, then stopped herself and thrust it into Harry's hands.

        "You read it," she said in a meek voice.

        He unfolded it completely and started reading aloud:

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_The Switzerland Ministry of Magic has received and processed your application.  We would be most grateful to have a person with your talent and abilities working with our ministry.  Below is a list of positions we believe you would be qualified for.  Further information on the below mentioned postings and other ministry information will be sent to you shortly.  It is our hope that upon finishing Hogwarts you will choose to join the Switzerland Ministry._

_Sincerely,_

_Hans Cabrara,_

_Senior Ministry Recruiting Officer_

        "I think this means they like you," Harry said wryly.

        It took nearly a full minute for what Harry had read to set in.  When it did, she demanded to see the letter – not that she didn't trust him – but she needed to see for herself.  It was all there – every word Harry had read.  She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, while still clutching the letter in her one hand.

        "Congratulations," said Harry, hugging her back.

        "Do you realize I'll have to find a place to live over there?  I don't even know what the housing situation is like in Switzerland."

        Harry chuckled at her excitement, but as she was saying the words, she realized she had already made the conscious decision to go.  How could she not?  The Swiss Ministry _wanted_ her, and they were even going to send more information when they didn't even know if she would accept their offer.  

        She felt the excitement being punctured out of her when she caught sight of Ron standing on the stairs, watching her.  The gloating expression fell off her face because one look at him told her he had heard every word of it.

        "Leaving, are you?"

        He tried to sound casual but she knew from experience that was when his temper was at its deadliest.

        Harry took that as his cue to leave.  Extracting himself from Hermione's grasp, he said, "I'm gonna head up to bed.  I'll see you in the morning.  Congratulations, again.  I knew they'd accept you."

        He said those last words hoping they'd have some effect on Ron, and make him realize he would be a fool to try and make her stay.  But he doubted they had any effect, considering this was the first Ron was hearing about the Switzerland Ministry.

        Hermione barely heard what Harry said.  She was too busy staring at Ron, waiting for the inevitable shouting match to begin.

        "You didn't answer my question," he said after Harry had gone.  He still had not moved from the stairs.

        "I haven't decided anything yet," she told him.

        "Don't lie to me, Hermione.  I saw how excited you were, and throwing your arms around Harry as if it were the best news you'd ever gotten.  You were already talking about where to live."

        "Ron, please don't be angry.  I wanted to tell you – I tried to tell you a hundred times, but I couldn't go through with it."

        "But you could tell Harry, couldn't you?" He walked down the reminder of steps and did not stop until he was directly in front of her.  "He's known since the beginning, hasn't he?"

        "Don't get mad at Harry.  He wanted me to tell you."

        "How could you tell him and not me?"  Ron demanded. 

        "I didn't know how to tell you, and I needed to talk to someone."

        "You mean you needed to talk to someone who would understand.  And who better then Harry?"

        "Don't put words in my mouth, Ron.  I never said Harry was more understanding then you."

        "You didn't have to," he bit off angrily.  

        "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but don't stand here and make me feel guilty for confiding in a friend!"  She shouted at him.

        "And that's all you two are, friends?"

        "I can't believe you even have to ask me that.  You know there's nothing between Harry and me."

        "No, I don't know that."  He pointed an accusing finger at her, and shouted, "you two have been acting so goddamn secretive lately that I'd like to know what the hell is going on.  I tried keeping my mouth shut, but things aren't getting any better.  I'll walk into a room and you'll stop talking.  I'll ask you to do something with me, and conveniently you and Harry are always busy at the same time.  You both make these excuses and disappear for hours.  Do I need to go on?"

        _Oh god_…_ he thinks I'm having an affair with Harry_.  "Ron, you have to trust me.  There is nothing going on," she pleaded with him to understand.

        "Then tell me why the hell I feel like I'm being left out here."

        She bit her bottom lip.  "I can't."

        Ron had already reacted so badly to her having confided in Harry, how was she supposed to tell him the reason she was spending so much time with their mutual best friend was because she had all but begged him to help her better protect herself?

        "Jesus, Hermione, you can do better then that," he said, taking his fingers and raking them through his hair.  "If you're snogging Harry, you could at least come up with some plausible excuse – "

        "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She said, placing her hands on her hips and throwing him her steeliest gaze.  "Give yourself an excuse to ends things with us because you're so unbelievably scared at how everything has changed."

        "You don't deny it then?"

        She was so furious she couldn't stand the sight of him anymore.  She turned her back to him and said, "if you don't already know the answer, I don't even know why we're still together."

        "Not for much longer.  You're already packed and looking at flats in Switzerland, and we haven't even graduated yet!"

        She reached around the back of her neck to undo the necklace she wore and spun around to face him, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.  "I actually considered staying here, for _you_, but what kind of future do we have if you can't even trust me?"

        She thrust the chain into his hand that she kept the engagement ring on.  She saw the hurt play across his features before it was covered up by anger.  He squeezed the ring in his hand and made a fist.  Ron was so furious and hurt he couldn't speak.  Hermione's face was red and covered in tears and Ron didn't want to have to look at her anymore.  He bolted from Gryffindor Tower, forcing himself to keep going and not turn back – telling himself that it was better this way.  But as his mind began to comprehend what had just transpired, how quickly he had let everything end, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his own tears in check.


	28. Only Making Things Worse

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:  Only Making Things Worse

For the first time in as long as Harry could remember, the reason he had been kept up half the night had nothing to do with nightmares.  He wasn't quite sure why but his mind kept going back to the conversation he and Ron had with Hermione about the protection spells surrounding the school.  Perhaps he was reading too much into it, but he had a hunch that there was something they were missing about the whole thing.

At dawn, sick of tossing and turning, he pulled himself out of bed and made for the room of research.  He found Ron's bed empty and had been that way all night as it was still made.  He suddenly wondered how bad things had gone between him and Hermione.  Maybe he had been so upset he hadn't wanted to come up to the dorm and wake everyone up.  Still, Harry would have preferred that because then at least he would have known where his friend was.  Ron knew better then to wander the castle alone late at night with things the way they were.

He figured it was still too early, even for Hermione, so he made the trek to the room of research alone.  Once he got there, he wasn't even sure if he was on the right track.  When he saw Hermione later he would have to run by her the theory of the protection spell.  She was much better at research then him, and she would be able to tell him if his search was pointless.  The only bright point was that just before Lucius Malfoy had become the new Headmaster, McGonagall and Lupin had transferred all the books from Dumbledore's office to the room of research, so they would have access to everything they needed from that one room.  Lucius had asked about the whereabouts of the books but McGonagall had cleverly lied and said they had been packed up and sent into storage to be preserved, and that she could not remember where as she had not been in charge of it herself.

It was almost lunchtime before Harry was disturbed by another person.  He had been so absorbed in his research he had not noticed it had gotten so late in the day.

"Were you here all night?"  Ginny asked him, more than a little stunned to find Harry, with his hair sticking up at all angles, surrounded by a mountain of books.

"No, but I've been here since dawn.  Couldn't sleep," he answered.  Ginny's interruption allowed him to acknowledge his growing hunger at skipping breakfast.

She glanced at the titles of several books sprawled across the table he was working at, and then back up at Harry with a quizzical expression on her face.  "What kind of research are you doing?"  To her, the books looked to be quite different from the ones they had been leafing through on a regular basis.

He quickly explained his theory about the protection spell, and how if it worked for Hogwarts maybe they could find something similar to use to defend against Voldemort.  He was pleased to see that she didn't think his idea was that farfetched at all.  Unfortunately, she didn't have any better ideas of where to start searching then him, but she did agree to help.

She picked up one of the books already open on the table and started pouring through it.  Harry was skimming through _Protecting Your Spirit_, and wrestling with the idea of asking Ginny if she wanted to grab an early lunch with him when the door burst open, and in stormed Ron, looking mad enough to snap a hippogriff's neck.  The instant Ron's eyes locked with his, Harry knew his life was in danger.  Before he had time to react, Ron was grabbing him by the collar and throwing him up against the nearest wall.

Harry didn't think he had ever seen Ron madder.  His eyes were bubbling with barely suppressed rage.

"You have some nerve, Potter," Ron seethed.  "How could you?  You could have any girl at this school and you go after Hermione!"

"Ron, I don't know wha – " 

"She didn't deny it when I asked her if there was something going on between you two.  She couldn't tell me why you were spending all this time together and lying right to my face with excuses."

"Ron, there is nothing going on!" Harry insisted.  "We weren't carrying on behind your back.  You have to trust me."

Ron's eyes became dangerous slits.  "That's funny, because Hermione said those exact same words."

Harry wanted to tell him everything about Malfoy's threat and the secret training sessions, but he didn't think it would make a bit of difference.  It looked as though Ron wasn't about to believe a word that came out of his mouth.

Ron let go of him and backed away.  For a moment, Harry thought he was getting ready to hit him, but instead Ron turned and made for the door.  Everything in the room shook when it slammed shut behind him.

He saw Ginny heading for the door and caught her arm.

She gave him a furious look.  "Someone needs to go after him, and since it can't be you, I'm next in line."

"There's no point in going after him when he's being a complete and total idiot.  He knows I would never make a move on Hermione.  I care for her – as a _friend_ – but that's it."

"Maybe he's having trouble seeing it at the moment."

He didn't like the accusatory tone in her voice.  "You think there's something going on too, don't you?"

"Harry, put yourself in Ron's shoes.  You and Hermione have been spending all this time alone together, and when he confronts you neither one of you will give him a straight answer."

"Ginny's there's reasons why we've been keeping things from him, but it's not what either one of you think.  Just because I don't have a clue where things stand with us, doesn't mean I'd start screwing around with some random girl, much less Hermione."

"I don't know what I want any more than you know what you want," she said to him.

"Why the hell does everything have to be so goddamn complicated?" He said, failing to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"Because that's life, Harry," she said, and then left him to go after her brother.

When Monday morning came around, Harry was the first one dressed and out of his dorm.  He hadn't slept all that well anyways, and he wanted to make sure he caught Hermione before they went to class.  He had knocked on her door repeatedly last night, but had received no answer.  He considered just going in, but Lavender and Pavarti had caught him and said he was just going to make things worse.  Today was different.  He knew she wouldn't stay locked up in her room all day when they had classes, and since it took Lavender and Pavarti the better half of the morning to get ready, he'd be able to speak to her without her body guards interfering.

He had thought about hanging around the common room and waiting for her there, but he had a feeling she would have left especially early to avoid seeing Ron, which didn't really make any sense since she would have to see him in class anyways.

He bounded down staircase after staircase, eventually coming across her walking through the main hall.  She ignored him until he was walking beside her.

"We need to talk," he said, keeping his voice low, so the group of passing Hufflepuffs wouldn't hear.

"We have class now," she said, keeping her eyes straight ahead.  "We'll be late."

"Lupin won't mind," he said, tugging at her arm and finding a deserted hallway to pull her down, which wasn't too difficult considering it was still very early.

He had planned to start bombarding her with questions about what had happened after he had left her and Ron in the common room the other night, but she still wouldn't look at him.  Even without seeing her face, he could tell she was trying very hard not to fall apart.

"I'm sorry," he said gently.

"Harry, I can't do this with you now," she said, her voice faltering.

She tried to make a run for it, but he caught her arms.  "Well, we have to do something to fix this," he told her.  "Look, if we corner Ron, he'll have no choice but to listen to us."

"That won't work.  He'll think we're teaming up against him."

Harry raked a frustrated hand through his thick hair.  "Then what are we bloody well supposed to do to get him to listen to the truth?"

He realized he was yelling, and immediately regretted it for it was making her more upset.

"I gave him the ring back, you know," she said, her voice quivering even more now.  "It's over."

He had already known that – Lavender and Pavarti had filled him in on that much – but to hear Hermione talking about it, was what made it real for him.  His friends would bicker and fight constantly, but that was just how their relationship worked.  He never anticipated the two of them breaking up - especially over something so utterly ridiculous.  

"I'll fix this," he promised her.  

Hermione forcefully shook her head.  "Harry, please stay out of this.  I have to be the one to talk to him – and I'm going to tell him everything about Malfoy and the extra lessons you've been giving me."

"How do you know he's even going to believe you?"

"Because he will."

She pulled away from him and this time he let her.  Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't likely to work.  Ron wasn't about to listen to reason as long as he was still worked up about Hermione leaving and the thought of her sneaking around with his best friend.

At lunch, Hermione approached Ron.  He was seated at the Gryffindor table, but was as far away from everyone as possible.  She was barely a foot away when he noticed her and immediately got up and started walking.  She hadn't wanted to make a scene, but she couldn't let him get away without hearing her out.

        She caught his arm and tried to make him stop but he roughly pushed her away.  She chased him out of the Great Hall and into the main hallway, but he still showed no signs of stopping.

        "Ron, please!  I want to tell you everything."

        He finally stopped.  With his back to her, he said, "go on, I'm listening."

        She spilled everything about going to Harry and asking for extra defense lessons, and making excuses about what she was doing because she hadn't wanted him to worry about her.  She told him about overhearing Malfoy's threat on Harry's life, but Harry had refused to take it seriously, and had wanted her not to say anything because he was afraid that Ron would take things into his own hands.  Ron listened to it all, and when she finished she felt like this giant weight had been lifted off her chest, and was positive that he would believe her.  How could he not?

        He turned around, folding his arms across his broad chest. "So did you two get together last night to concoct this story?"

        She felt the last spark of hope she had been holding onto dissolve.  He didn't believe her.  "Ron, it's the truth.  Every word of it."

        "Come off it, Hermione.  Malfoy's been plotting against Harry since first year, but nothing's ever happened."

        "It's different this time, Ron."

        "Do you have proof?  Has Malfoy been acting more of an asshole then usual?"

        "I _heard_ him that day in the hospital wing."

        Ron waved a dismissive hand.  "That still doesn't change the fact that you went to Harry for help after the Dementor attack.  I bet he's the one who convinced you to go to Switzerland," he added with a snarl.

        "This has nothing to do with Harry, does it?  You're just upset that I'm leaving and looking for someone to blame," she accused, her own temper starting to poke through, even when she knew that wasn't going to help her.  It would only make things worse.  But if he planned on flaring his temper at her, she was going to give it right back to him.

        "Did you really think you would leave England and things between us would be fine?  Are you that naïve?"

        How dare he call her naïve!  "I thought at the very least my own boyfriend would be supportive, but I guess I was asking too much."

        "Well, you never gave me a chance, did you?  You just dump this moving to another country thing on me and then expect me to be okay with it."

        "You blew the whole situation out of proportion," she shouted, pointing an angry finger at him.  "Do you really think that I'm capable of cheating on you with your best friend?"

        "It doesn't matter what I think," said Ron.  "Now you can leave without having to worry about me holding you back anymore."

        This time when he walked away, she didn't try stopping him.  As much as she wanted to go after him and scream at him until she was blue in the face, she had to face reality.  Ron was hurt and angry and was reacting the only way he knew how.  She couldn't claim complete innocence in this mess either.  If she had just been honest with him from the beginning things might not have gotten this bad, and now that he knew she was leaving he couldn't see the point in putting effort into fixing things between them.  Everything was just one gigantic mess, and nothing she seemed to say was making it any better.

It was with much effort that she returned to the Great Hall.  She would rather have been alone, but she didn't have the energy to walk somewhere else.  Without intending to, she slid onto the bench beside Harry, ignoring everyone around her.

        "Did you talk to him?"  He asked her.

        "I talked – he didn't listen.  Harry, he didn't believe a word I said!"  She cried.

        "I think it's more he's angry that you're leaving then anything else.  He'll come around." He was lying to make her feel better, but it wasn't working.  He put a comforting hand on top of hers, but a moment later she snatched hers away.

        "Don't," she said, moving it a safe distance from his.

        "So I can't even touch you now?" he said, his tone harsh.  "Even when we both know there's nothing going on?"

        "But _he_ doesn't," she said, looking at him.  "And until he does, I think it would be a good idea for us to give each other some space."

        He knew how hard it must have been for her to say those words, but that didn't make Harry feel any less angry.  He was angry at her for putting their friendship on hold because there might be some remote chance Ron would forgive her.  And he was angry at Ron for being so thick headed that he couldn't see how much Hermione loved him.  But most of all, he was angry with himself.  He managed not only to destroy two friendships, but also wreck a two-year long relationship in the process.


	29. Payback

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:  Payback

        "What did she say?"

        "She said she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it herself, and went on about how she stupid she was because of it.  Then she ran off to find some books."

        Harry gave a satisfied nod.  If Hermione thought the protection spell idea was that important, then it was worth looking into.  In any case, it was the first solid lead they had.

        "I still don't understand why you couldn't tell her all of that yourself," Ginny said to him.

        "You know why."

        Ginny sighed.  "I hope you realize how ridiculous you two are being.  You're making things worse by not speaking each other."

        "I'm not _not_ speaking to her.  I'm giving her space – that was what she wanted."

        "Have you talked to Ron?"

        "Tried to, but he didn't want to listen."

        "He needs time," Ginny told him.

        Harry glanced down at his untouched homework from last night.  "How is she?"

        "Harry – " She was going to tell him to get off his arse and find out for himself, but she could see how concerned he was for Hermione and did not want to do anything that might jeopardize their friendship further.  "She's holding herself together really well – too well, in fact," she told him.  "I guess it helps that she has a lot to distract herself with.  She needs her best friend more than ever now," she finished, raising a pointed eyebrow at Harry.

        Harry didn't miss the look she was sending him.  "Then it's a good thing she has you," he acknowledged, standing up and starting to pack up his school things.  Ginny tried to engage him in further conversation, but he rebuffed her efforts, and eventually she took the hint and left him alone.  He had just enough time to stop by the Great Hall and wolf down some breakfast before class.  He hoped that McGonagall wouldn't have a pop quiz planned like she did the last time he neglected to do his homework.

        Despite Harry's distracted state of mind, he noticed that many of the students were turning to stare at and whisper until he was halfway to the Gryffindor table.  It used to bother him, but it seemed to happen on such a regular basis that he just pretended to ignore it.  At least he tried to ignore it, but it was extremely difficult when he joined his house table and saw Lavender and Pavarti giving him nasty looks, while Dean and Seamus stared at him in complete shock.  He wasn't even seated yet when a fuming Hermione slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table in front of him.

        The front-page headline read:  _Boy Who Lived Finds Love at Last with Muggleborn_.  Underneath was a picture of himself and Hermione sitting close together at the Gryffindor table, while the Harry in the picture kept putting his hand on top of Hermione's over and over again.

        "Don't bother reading the article.  It made me sick to my stomach," she said, disgusted.

        Now he understood why everyone had been staring more than usual.  "Who took this picture?"  He demanded.

        She arched an eyebrow.  "You don't know?"

        He didn't know what she was getting at until he caught sight of a pale, blond person strolling towards them.

        "Congratulations, Potter for finally coming out in the open," Malfoy sneered, and hanging from his left side, Pansy Parkinson snickered.  "You shouldn't be ashamed of your mudblood girlfriend."

        Harry rolled up the paper and clenched it in one hand.  "You did this?"

        "You did this all on your own, Potter.  I just gave the public an inside view into their favourite celebrity.  It's quite a good read," he said, pulling out his own copy.

        Even with the teachers sitting only a few feet away, Harry was finding it extremely difficult to come up with reasons as to why he shouldn't land Malfoy in the hospital wing again.

        Malfoy cleared his throat and started reading loudly from his paper.  "_It seems that every witch and wizard's favourite Boy Who Lived has finally found love with childhood friend and muggleborn, Hermione Granger.  Sources close to Harry Potter say that his brief stint with Ginny Weasley was just a ploy so that no one would know he was actually in love with Miss Granger.  Everyone still remembers their short-lived romance during the Tri-Wizard Tournament three years ago _– "

        "That's enough!"  Hermione grabbed the paper from him and flung it on the ground.  

        "Hey, I was just getting to the part where Potter's supposed to propose come graduation."

        Hermione gave him her most penetrating stare.  "You're an evil _thing_, Malfoy.  I hope one day soon you get what's coming to you."

        It happened so fast, Malfoy didn't have time to blink as her bare hand came down and smacked him across his face, leaving behind a red welt in the shape of a handprint.

        The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers and whistles.  Malfoy's face was as priceless as it had been the day Hermione had slapped him back in third year.  Colin Creevy took out his camera and photographed Malfoy's humiliated expression for all of eternity.

        Hermione didn't feel like joining in on the festivities as the Gryffindors hollered at Malfoy and chased him from the dining hall.  She used that distraction to her advantage so she could slip out from the Great Hall.  Hitting him had made her feel slightly better but it wouldn't change the fact that every single Hogwarts student could get their hands on that particular copy of the _Prophet_.  She knew without question that Ron had seen it.  It would undoubtedly destroy all the work she had done over the passed week to distance herself from Harry and show him there was nothing going on. 

        Hermione had learned to develop a tough exterior over the years.  Being muggleborn, she was often the butt of many jokes and insults courtesy of the Slytherins.  Learning to live with it didn't make her immune to it, but she was able to deal with it.  But when the front page story of her and Harry became common knowledge, and it was no longer just Slytherins who were whispering behind their hands and casting disgusted looks at her from every corner, she felt about ready to crack.  It was only a matter of time before her own House started behaving the same way – if they weren't already doing so.

        She refused to look at any and all copies of the _Daily Prophet_.  She only wished every one else would do the same.  Not wanting to endure the school's prying eyes on her for the entire lunch period, she had skipped it and went straight to the library to do a bit of studying.  She was trying to make it to her Ancient Runes lecture without anyone gawking at her, which had been working right up until the moment when Harry fell into step beside her.

        "You missed lunch," he said.

        "I wasn't hungry," she responded, feeling particularly snappish.

        Harry either didn't get she wanted to be left alone, or was choosing to ignore it.

        "I think Ron's starting to come around," he said, his tone hopeful.

        "Why?  Because he's given up yelling at us and has moved on to ignoring us altogether?  You're right, Harry, that's definitely progress."

        "I don't know why you're angry with me.  I didn't ask for any of this to happen."

        "You're right, you didn't.  But you don't seem overly concerned about the rumours surrounding us."

        "You have to ignore them," he told her.  "Something else will come along like it always does, and they'll forget all about us."

        "Just because you've lived with people talking behind your back your whole life, doesn't mean that everyone else is comfortable with it," she said shortly.  "You didn't have to sit there in Arithmacy and listen to Anna Morris of Ravenclaw tell anyone who will listen about how I've been reaping the benefits that comes with having two guys as best friends.  And you're not there when Ron looks at me like I carry the plague.  But I'll ignore it because it's all going just blow over, right, Harry?"

        "Why are you getting so worked up over something that isn't?"

        "Because this something that isn't _is_ costing me my reputation, my boyfriend, and just about everything else that matters."

        It sounded selfish really, because Harry had lost a lot too – but for the moment though, Hermione didn't care.  She just wanted things to go back to the way they were.  She would have even settled for her and Ron just being on speaking terms.

Harry was rapidly losing his cool.  "What do you want me to do?  You wanted us to stop speaking to each other – and we did – but it hasn't changed anything."

"I want you to stop trying to fix something you can't."

She was suddenly jolted into Harry when someone passing by hit her hard in the arm.  She didn't see who it was, but they kept walking without even stopping to apologize.

Rubbing her sore arm, she said. "I don't hate you for what's happening, Harry."

"It sure feels like it," he said bitterly.

"This is both of our faults," she said, slowing her pace because it was becoming very hot in the hallway.  "We did – we both made mistakes."

Her balance faltered, but a steadying hand caught her before she could fall.

Harry watched her, his brow furrowed with concern.  "Are you feeling okay?"  He was still holding on to her arm, which was perspiring heavily.

"It's just hot in here."

She didn't think she was getting sick.  She had felt perfectly healthy when she had woken up that morning.

She went to start walking again, but her legs refused to follow her instructions.  They folded like jelly beneath her and she collapsed to the floor.  Everything was becoming so unfocused.  Harry was at her side, screaming at her to tell him what was wrong, but she couldn't answer him.  She felt like she was burning up, and was startled to find she was breathing as hard as she could, but very little air was getting into her lungs.  She felt someone scooping her up into their arms – and then she knew no more.


	30. All Secrets Revealed

CHAPTER THIRTY:  All Secrets Revealed

Ron couldn't remember how he had managed to get himself to the hospital wing.  He remembered running into Neville on the way to Astronomy, who told him Hermione had collapsed in the hallway only minutes before.  That was all it took for Ron to drop everything and race to the hospital wing, desperate to find out what was wrong with her.

He was barely inside the doorway before he started shouting, "what happened?  Where is she?"

Then he saw her, lying on a bed, with a very harried Madame Pomfrey checking over her vitals.  She was as pale as the bed sheets, and was shaking so much, the Matron had used a spell to bound her wrists and ankles.

He ran to her, only to find his path cut off by Harry.

"Ron, you have to let Madame Pomfrey help her."

He wanted to shove Harry out of the way, and make him feel what he was feeling, seeing Hermione lie there near death, and he wasn't quite sure what stopped him from doing that.

"She's not helping her," Ron said, and he was shaking now too.

"She's doing everything she can, Ron," his sister's voice rang from his left side, attempting to sound reassuring and failing.

It obviously wasn't enough in Ron's opinion.  It was making him sick to watch her moaning and thrashing wildly and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help.  He had never before felt so helpless.

"It could be any one of a million things affecting her," Ginny tried to tell him.  "Madame Pomfrey can't begin to treat her until she knows what it is, otherwise she could just make it worse."

Ron failed to see how things could get any worse.

"Did she look all right this morning?"  Ginny questioned Harry.

"Yeah, she looked perfectly normal," he answered distantly.

"Did she eat anything different?"  She pressed him.

Harry finally tore his gaze away from Hermione.  "I don't think so.  She skipped lunch though.  She said she wasn't hungry."

"Did anything out of the ordinary happen when you were with her?"

"No, there was nothing," he said, completely frustrated that he couldn't be any more helpful.  "We were arguing and after she got knocked in the arm while we were walking she lost her balance and started complaining she was hot."

"Which arm?"  Ginny demanded.

"Her right one, near the elbow."

Both he and Ron didn't understand the relevance of this, but Ginny and Madame Pomfrey seemed to.  She began a thorough examination of Hermione's right arm.  She stopped abruptly and snapped at Ginny to grab a container full of a silky blue liquid from her medicine cupboard.  Ginny returned a second later, and the Hogwarts matron began pouring it down Hermione's throat.  She stopped after pouring nearly half of it down.

"Do you know what's wrong?"  Ron asked, moving closer to the bed.

"Poison," Madame Pomfrey answered instantly.  "There's a very tiny puncture wound on her right forearm where it was injected.  I gave her this to freeze the poison inside of her.  It will stop it from spreading any further while I run some tests to figure out what kind of toxin it is."

"Is she going to be all right?"  Asked Harry.

The Hogwarts matron's normally stony expression became sympathetic.  "I'm sorry, it's too early to tell."

Ron faced Harry.  "Who ran into her?"

"I didn't get a good look at who it was.  It happened so fast and he blended in with every one else."

"Malfoy," Ron spat the name as if it were the most disgusting word he had ever heard.

"I would have recognized if it was him," Harry told him.

"He didn't do it, but he was behind it.  I'd stake my life on it."

"Ron, you can't prove that."

"Jesus, Harry, open your eyes.  Malfoy's been dying for a way to get back at you.  He couldn't hurt you directly so he found the next best target.  He got back at you through Hermione."

Harry knew Ron was right without thinking.  For the longest time, Hermione had tried to convince him that Malfoy's threat was real, but he had brushed her off.  He had even called her paranoid more than once.  Now she was paying for his ignorance with her life.

"This is your fault," Ron accused.  "You let Malfoy get her."

"Ron, I swear I didn't know he would go after her just to get back at me,"

"Harry, how stupid are you?  Hermione's had a target on herself since the day she became friends with you.  If you had just trusted me from the beginning and told me what was going on, we could have prevented this from ever happening.  But you were too worried I'd lose my head and do something irrational, and now look what's happened."

"You both can either shut up or leave," said Ginny angrily, coming over to them.  "You're not helping Hermione, either one of you."

Ron stormed out of there so fast, Harry had to run to catch up with him.

"Don't go after Malfoy," Harry warned him, knowing exactly what he was planning.

"Don't tell me what to do, Harry."

"Ron, I'm serious.  You have no idea what you'd be getting yourself in to."

"You go on and on about me needing to trust you, well, how about trusting me for a change?"

He was going to do what Harry should have done in the first place.

        Draco Malfoy was sauntering down the hall, seemingly without a care in the world when a hand snaked out from the shadows and pulled him against the cold stone wall.

"What the – "

"Shut up, Malfoy.  I didn't say you could speak."

"Weasel, I suggest you take your hands off of me unless you're looking for an excuse to get yourself expelled."

Ron threw him back against the wall, hard, before strengthening his hold on the hem of Malfoy's robes.  "When you get out into the real world daddy won't be there to solve your every problem."

"Ever heard of the expression 'money talks'?  No, I suppose you wouldn't have – not with the lot you come from."

"I know it was you behind the attack on Hermione."

Malfoy tried looking aghast at the accusation, but Ron saw through the act.  "I had nothing to do with that.  Is it my fault that Granger can't cut it and fainted?  She should be counting herself lucky that she and the other filth like her are still allowed to roam these halls."

"You're the only filth here, Malfoy.  You can deny it all you want, but I know you had a hand in what happened."

"Why don't you try and prove it, Weasley," Malfoy dared him, despite the fact that Ron obviously had the upper hand at the moment.

"I have all the proof I need," Ron began in a dangerous tone.  "If anything happens to her I swear I will kill you with my own bare hands.  And no one – not daddy, not Crabe and Goyle, not anyone will be able to stop me."

He gave Malfoy another hard shove to emphasize how serious he was, before letting go and walking away.  After he had spoken those last words something had revealed itself in the Slytherin's eyes that been missing from all their previous confrontations.  Fear.   

It was well passed dinnertime when Ginny emerged from the hospital wing.  She spent all afternoon pouring through medical book after medical book looking for the poison they were dealing with in Hermione.  Now that Madame Pomfrey thought she had figured out what it was, she was already buslting away at creating an antidote.  Ginny had left, not wanting to distract her.  She gave her brother a comforting hug from where he sat beside Hermione's bed, which he barely acknowledged before leaving.

She was shocked to find Harry sitting alone in the waiting room outside in the corridor.

"How long have you been sitting here?"

He shrugged.  "A couple of hours maybe."

"Harry, you don't have to stay out here.  Ron's still with her, but I don't think he would mind your being there."

Harry disagreed.  "I think I've caused enough damage for one day, so if it's all the same to you, I'd rather to stay here."

"Madame Pomfrey figured out what kind of poison it is.  She's working on an antidote as we speak."

"So Hermione's going to be all right?"  His tone was hopeful.

"It's still too early to tell.  We have no idea how far the poison spread before it was frozen."  She didn't mean to crush his hope, but he deserved an honest answer where Hermione was concerned.

Harry kept his face expressionless, not wanting to betray any of the emotions he was feeling.  "What kind of poison was it?"

"It's a much more recent toxin as poisons go, discovered in the last century.  It breaks down the body's immune system, weakening the body's normal defenses until the victim eventually dies," she explained.

"Ron's got another thing to add to his list of reasons to hate me."

Ginny looked at him sharply.  "Do you think he shouldn't?"

Harry rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head in his hands.  "I'm so tired of this," he said in a weary voice.

"Tired of what?"

"Tired of the constant battle.  I hate it.  I hate how I've screwed up my friendship with Ron so many times it's now beyond repair.  I hate how Hermione got caught up in my rivalry with Malfoy.  And I hate how every thing I do pushes you further and further away."  His expression told her he hadn't meant to admit that last part out loud, but it was too late to take it back now.

She wasn't sure how to respond to that.  She cared about Harry more then she cared about anyone else in her life, but sometimes she wondered if she wouldn't be better off without him.  She could never think with a clear head where Harry was concerned.  He was the only boy she had ever really liked, and more than once she had wondered if she had deprived herself of many joyous relationships by devoting herself only to him.

"Why did you break up with me?"

The question startled her.  It felt like a lifetime ago.  "We were having problems.  It was the right thing to do."

"No, that's not it.  I saw your face when I said those things to you.  You wanted to put everything behind us, but you couldn't, why?"

"Harry, that was months ago.  Why are you bringing it up now?"

"Because I know you were keeping something hidden from me.  I want to know what that is."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said, and started walking away.

"You were the one who told me I would run away from my feelings because they scared me.  Now tell me who's running away?"  Harry challenged, jumping to his feet. 

She chose not to answer.  She didn't owe him any explanations.  She made her decision seven months ago, and no matter how much she missed him and wanted to be with him, she could never go back and undo the choice she had made.

When Harry got back to Gryffindor Tower, the first thing he did before marching up to the sixth year girl's dorm, was stopping by his own room to pick up something he might need.  Ginny may not have anything to say to him, but he had plenty to say to her – and she was going to listen.  She accused him of hiding his feelings when she was doing the exact same thing by refusing to talk to him.  It infuriated him to no end that she would not give him a straight answer.  That only served to further confirm his judgment that she was hiding something from him, and with everything that had happened since Christmas he had been too stuck in his own world to pay it any attention – but not anymore.  

He banged on the door to her dorm, but received no response.  He put his ear to the door but there was nothing but silence coming from the other side.  He decided to take his chances and walk in.  Luckily, it was indeed empty inside.  He found the bed that was Ginny's and sat on it.  He pulled the invisibility cloak he'd brought with him over himself in case any of her roommates walked in.  He'd sit there all night if he had to, but he wasn't leaving until he got an answer that satisfied him.  If she thought she could avoid him by hiding up in her room, he was going to show her how mistaken she was.

He was sitting on something hard.  It was underneath the covers, so he reached under and pulled it out.  It was just some book with no words on the cover, and he nearly tossed it on her dresser without a second glance when he recognized what it was.  It was the same maroon coloured book he had seen her writing in during the summer.  A diary.  He was holding Ginny Weasley's diary in his hands.  His conscience was screaming at him to put it back where he found it and forget he'd ever seen it, while his brain was screaming equally as hard that all the answers he was looking for were right in there.  It's not like he had to tell her afterwards that he had looked at it.  He tried to rationalize that he was only going to skim through a couple of pages.  He didn't think there was any harm in taking a peak at it, so he opened it and started reading the first page…

The common room was still bustling with activity when Ginny headed up to her room for bed.  It was early still, but she was beyond exhausted.  All she wanted to do was get under her covers and sleep for a week.  She found she was not the only one who had decided to retire early.  Two of her roommates were already fast asleep.  She carried her tired body over to her side of the room, dropping her robe by the foot of the bed and not caring.  She was in the process of pulling her sweater over her head, when she gasped loudly at seeing Harry appear out of thin air on her bed.  

She cast a quick look to make sure her roommates were still asleep before saying in a hushed voice, "what are you doing here?"

He didn't answer her, but through the moonlight that crept through the windows in the room she made out the shape of a rectangular object beside him.  _Her_ diary.  She didn't even have to ask.  One look at his face confirmed her worst fears.  Knowing she wouldn't be able to keep her voice down, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bathroom, muttering a silencing spell as soon as the door was shut.

"How dare you read my diary!"  She screamed at him.

"How could you not tell me Sirius made you break up with me?"  He demanded.

"Sirius didn't make me do anything.  It was my choice."

Harry wasn't buying that excuse.  "Why didn't you ever say anything?" 

"This conversation is over," she said, reaching for the door handle.  "Harry, what you did was unforgivable." 

Harry's hand reached it first, stopping her from leaving.  "You should have been honest with me."

"And that gave you an open invitation to read up on my most private thoughts?  Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for me to stand here after you read what I wrote in there?"  If she hadn't been fuming with anger she would have been blushing at any number of things he could have read.  She had that diary since fourth year and had accumulated quite a few entries centered around Harry.  

"I didn't read everything."

"Oh, and that makes it so much better," she bit out sarcastically.  

"Hey, I'm not the only guilty party here.  You lied, Ginny.  You lied about everything!  All these months of fighting and avoiding each other…" He trailed off, running his fingers through his unruly hair.

"Fine, I did lie, and maybe I should have told you about Sirius, but any chance we had at fixing things you just ruined.  You had no right to read my diary, and I will never forgive you for this as long as I live."

Tears were streaming down her face in full force now, but they were tears of anger.  Of all the things Harry had done to her, this was by far the worst.  She had not expected him to violate her privacy in the worst possible way – and she hated him for that.

She pushed Harry out of the way and flung the bathroom door open.  She didn't care if she woke her roommates, or who saw her as she ran through the common room and out the portrait hole.  All that mattered to her at that moment was being as far away from Harry Potter as possible.

"Sirius!"  Harry shouted, stepping out from his godfather's fireplace.  "Sirius, are you here?"

The lights in the house were on, and out came Sirius from the kitchen, looking thoroughly surprised and somewhat panicked to see his godson.

"Harry, what's wrong?  Did something happen at Hogwarts?"

"How could you interfere in my relationship with Ginny?"  Harry shouted at him. 

Sirius looked stricken.  "Harry, it wasn't like that – "

"The hell it wasn't!"  Harry continued to shout, and took a step towards his godfather.  "I've been suffering and miserable for months and it's all your fault!"

"I told Ginny after the Hogsmeade incident that she needed to make a choice.  I knew how much she cared for you, and I knew that if you continued to see her Voldemort would find some way to use her against you."

"I never would have let that happen.  I told you that day in the hospital wing that I would rather die first rather then see her hurt."

"Harry, that's exactly my point.  You were so blinded by your feelings for Ginny you were getting careless."

"And that's supposed to make it okay that you ruined whatever chance at a relationship we might have had?  I would have thought that you, Sirius, above everyone else would have wanted to see your best friend's son happy."

"I did what I thought was best for you at the time."

"Save the excuses, Sirius.  I don't want to hear anything else you have to say.  The second I vanish from that fireplace I don't want to ever see you again.  You can go and rot in Azkaban for another twelve years for all I care."

"Harry, please wait!"

Harry was back in the fireplace in an instant, not wanting to stay in that house a second longer.  The thought alone of having to be in the same room as Sirius Black made his stomach recoil with disgust.  He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Three Broomsticks!" and vanished in a green flash.  

From his living room, Sirius continued to beg his godson to stay long after Harry's departure.


	31. How To Deal

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:  How to Deal

        "Unfortunately, the binding protection spell surrounding Hogwarts is not one that can be used on a human.  It's meant for a stationary, non-living object.  It's much easier to protect something that doesn't move.  However, Hermione was right in thinking that we could turn the spell around into protecting a human.  But it would be untested and we would have no idea of whether it would work until –"

        "Until Voldemort tries to kill me."  Lupin seemed unable to finish the thought so Harry did it for him.  

        Lupin gave a short nod, but he was taken aback at how casual Harry sounded.  He didn't sound the least bit worried.  In fact, he sounded like someone ready to face death.

        "There are several strong points – hot spots, if you will – surrounding the perimeter of the school grounds.  They act as conductors for keeping the current and all past protection spells running.  If we have one person standing in each of those spots, it should act as a pathway to channel the protection spell back to you.  The spell needs some magical force that already exists in order to bind everyone's energy to yours.  Hogwarts is naturally magical that's why the protection spell works.  For you, Harry, your scar is the key.  Because of the powerful magical energy it gives off, it will act as the link between you and everyone involved."

        "Is there any danger to the people participating?"

        "I don't know, Harry," Lupin answered truthfully.  "The danger is most likely minimal, but this has never been done before.  We'll take every necessary precaution but it would be impossible to cover all the risks."

        Those words were not exactly comforting to Harry.  Even with minimal danger he disliked the idea, but the possibility of more damaging results was unacceptable to him.  "Maybe we should keep looking."

        "Harry," Lupin began patiently, "the chances of us finding another spell in time are extremely small,  I understand you don't want to endanger anyone's life, but this is the only option we have."

        Harry sat there, contemplating his professor's words, knowing that Lupin was right, but still wishing there was another alternative.  "How many people will we have to involve?"  

        "Five," Lupin replied, "with you in the middle, anchoring everyone together."

        Five seemed like too many to Harry.  He would have much rather performed the spell on himself, but Lupin had already told him that would not work.  It wouldn't be strong enough. 

        "The spell will be much stronger with people who already have a bond with you," Lupin explained.  "I took the liberty of speaking with Hermione the day before she entered the hospital wing.  She knows the risks, Harry, and she wants to be a part of it.  As do Ron and Ginny."

        Harry didn't know what was more shocking, the fact that Lupin had secretly asked the people he cared about most to participate, or the fact that Ron and Ginny had agreed to it after everything that had happened.

        "I will of course take part as well," Lupin continued.  "That just leaves one other person."

        Harry didn't have the words to express his gratitude to his teacher, but Lupin didn't seem to be expecting any.  Up until three days ago he would have said without thinking who the fifth person should be, but now he wanted nothing more then to never see that person again.

        "I could get in touch with Sirius if you like," Lupin suggested.

        Harry was unable to restrain the anger he was feeling.  "What for?"

        "Harry, I do not defend Sirius' actions.  He was wrong and he should not have interfered with your relationship with Ginny Weasley.  I told him that when he came here yesterday wanting to see you.  I managed to convince him it was too soon to see you, but he won't stay away forever, no matter what you said to him.  He's your family, Harry."

        "I don't have any family," he said coldly.  "Professor, I did fine on my own before Sirius and I'll be fine again without him.  We can do this spell without him."

        "We could, but it wouldn't be as strong.  Harry, Sirius loves you as if you were his own son, and that strength alone would be greater then any other person we could bring into this."

        Harry's mind drifted to Dumbledore.  If he was still alive he would have volunteered to be a part of this.  He might have even discovered a better plan of action.  But Dumbledore was gone and this was all they had.

        "The choice ultimately has to be yours," Lupin was saying to him.  "But please consider what I have said."

"Can I go now, Professor?"  Harry asked, impatient to get out of there.

        Even if Lupin had said no Harry didn't think he would have stuck around.  He didn't want to be fed a guilt trip about Sirius.  He reflected back on what he had said to his godfather about rotting in Azkaban, and it seemed harsh even considering the circumstances it was said under, but Harry wasn't about to take it back.  He would have been perfectly fine never speaking to Sirius again, and now Lupin was telling him he needed to make amends.  Despite everything that was at stake, Harry wasn't sure if he would be able to do that.

        The entire walk back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry's brain was in overdrive.  He was wracking it for a solution – or even an alternative – to having to forgive Sirius.  He didn't even want to talk to the man, how was he supposed to patch things up?  Then again, Lupin had not said anything about having to forgive Sirius.  Would the spell still work then?  He was stuck on that particular thought when he stepped through the portrait hole and into the common room.  

        Even with the late hour, the room was still full of students with the end of the year examinations – particularly the OWL's and NEWTS – for the fifth and seventh years so close.  Harry, who had not cracked a book in days, felt slightly panicked at seeing every one else with their nose buried in one.  There was one Gryffindor in particular who had stopped studying the second Harry walked through the portrait hole.  Ginny was staring at him, her expression carefully guarded, so he couldn't tell whether or not she was angry to see him.  She refused all attempts he made to communicate with her.  The only time she spoke to him was to give him updates on Hermione's condition, which continued to improve, but she was still unconscious.  Without actually coming out and saying it, Harry had gathered the longer Hermione remained in that unconscious state, the more likely it became that she would never wake up.

        She took an extraordinary amount of time in closing up one of her books before standing up and walking over to him.  She had never been the one to approach him since the diary incident, leading Harry to the conclusion that maybe she was finally ready to talk.  He would apologize over and over for reading her diary and somehow she would find a way to forgive him.

        "Ginny, I – "

        "Hermione's awake," she interrupted him.  "I thought you'd like to know."

        "That – that's fantastic," he said, thought with not with nearly enough enthusiasm as he should have.  It seemed that was all she had to say to him, for she went back to her study area and did not look up from her notes once.

        He wanted to get to the hospital wing and see Hermione, but he needed to say a few more things to her.

        "Lupin said you agreed to be part of the protection spell," he said to her.

        She purposely ignored looking at him.  "It doesn't change anything, Harry."

        She was still extremely hacked off at him, he could tell that much, and instead of pushing the matter further, he left the common room altogether.  If she had agreed to be part of the protection spell even without forgiving him, then he could get Lupin to bring Sirius in and do the exact same thing.  

        He knew it was well after visiting hours, but he was sure given the situation Madame Pomfrey would not mind him coming by.  He ran most of the way, feeling much more excited now then when Ginny had first given him the news.  He came to an abrupt halt outside in the visiting room.  He could hear Ron's voice inside – he sounded very serious.  Then he heard Hermione's voice and thought they might be in the process of working things out.  He didn't really want to go barging in there, and he knew he shouldn't stand out there and listen to them either, but he couldn't help himself.  If they were working things out, then maybe there was still a chance to repair has badly damaged friendship with Ron.

        Ron wondered how he could be in the same room with someone who knew him inside and out, and yet still struggle for things to talk about.  They had already exhausted the subject of school, and were currently talking about her parents, but Ron was already wracking his brain for a new topic.

        "Madame Pomfrey says they'll be here first thing in the morning," Ron told her.  "They've been worried sick.  McGongall didn't want to risk bringing them out of where they were staying until she had any changes to report to them.  My dad and some members from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad are taking every precaution to make sure they get here safely."

        Like she had since Ron had started talking to her, Hermione lied there, listening to it all but not saying much in return.

        "Everyone's been asking about you," he said.  "I think they miss having the Head Girl bossing them around, making sure they're all studying."  He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.  "I know I've missed it."

        She forced herself to stare back at him, but said nothing.

        "It's killed me to be apart from you, and I know how awful I was to you, but I really want things to work out for us.  I should have known then that there was nothing between you and Harry.  You were right, I should have trusted you.  I just panicked when you said you were going to Switzerland and I picked a fight wherever I could.  I'm sorry for everything, and you have every right to still be angry with me, but I don't want us to be apart anymore.  If you still want to leave, we'll figure something out.  Once we get our apparation licenses we could see each other every weekend if we wanted to." 

        He had spoke so fast he hoped she had understood every word of it because he didn't think he could say it all again.  She was very quiet, and he didn't know if he should take that as a good sign or not.

        "Ron, I can't," she said in a choked voice.

        "You can't want?"  He said, his own voice starting to croak.

        "I can't do this.  We can say sorry all we want, but neither one of us is just going to forget everything that's happened.  You said it killed you for us to be apart, well it tore me apart that you would even consider for a second that I wanted to be with someone other then you."

        "What was I supposed to think?" Ron said, failing to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.  " You told Harry about this entire new life you were going to have, and I had no idea it even existed."

        "I told Harry because I knew he was the one person who wouldn't make me feel guilty about leaving."

        "I can't help it if I'd want you to stay, but I wouldn't try and use that against you."

        "Yes, you would, Ron," she said without hesitation.

        His silence was all the answer she needed.

        "I love you, Ron.  But no matter how much I love you, it's not going to fix our problems.  I don't forgive you for the things you said, and I know you don't forgive me for trusting Harry over you – for telling him about Switzerland and going to him for extra defense lessons.  I think it's best if we're apart right now," she said, choking out the last part as she was crying freely now.

        There were silent tears rolling down Ron's face, but he made no move to wipe them away.  That's when she rolled onto her side, so she wouldn't see his face anymore.  She didn't trust herself to follow through on the words she had spoken.  He tried several times to get her to talk to him, but she resisted his attempts.  When she heard his retreating footsteps and was sure he was gone, she cried harder.  

        "Mr. Potter, you shouldn't be skulking around the halls at this hour!  Either come in and visit or return to your tower."

        Hearing the Hogwarts Matron's disgruntled tone, Hermione quickly wiped at her eyes.  There were several failed attempts before she was finally able to compose herself enough that she wouldn't break down in front of Harry.  She silently hoped he wouldn't stay long because she didn't think she would be able to hold herself together for very long.  She thought of Ron and the silent tears falling down his face and she was just able to catch herself before she lost it again.  

        "I promise not to ask how you're feeling since you've probably already been asked it a hundred times," Harry said, standing close by.

        She chuckled and sniffled a bit.  She wondered how much of a wreck she looked.  "I bet I look quite frightful," she said, making a futile effort to pat down her hair wild hair.

        "No, you look good," Harry said tentatively, sitting on the side of her bed.  He wanted to say something about what he had heard standing in the hallway, but he didn't know what.  He wanted to comfort her and tell her it would be all right, but he didn't know how to do that.  She had been there for him so many times in the past, he wanted to be able to do the same for her now.

        "I must be so behind with my schoolwork," was all she could think of to say.

        "Nah, we've mostly been spending every class revising.  Don't worry I made sure to take legible notes so you could copy them."  Looking down at her sheets, he said, "I'm really – "

        "You know how you promised not to ask me how I'm feeling?  Can you add to that list not to apologize for things that aren't your fault?"

        He wanted to disagree with her, and argue that he was to blame, but she'd already been through enough that he just nodded.  

        "How is the protection spell coming along?"

        "Hermione, that's the last thing you should be worrying about.  You should be concentrating on getting better."

        "I am, but this spell is too important for me to just forget about."

        "Maybe you shouldn't – "

        "If you're thinking of telling me I shouldn't be a part of it, you're mad, Harry.  Because I know you would do the same for me, so would Ron."  Her voice faltered after saying his name, but she took a steadying breath and continued.  "You can't keep us out of this.  I _did_ the research remember?  I know that the spell has a much better chance of succeeding if the people involved are emotionally attached to you."

        He didn't have the words to convey the emotions flowing through him, even if he did he wasn't sure he'd be able to say them.  He settled for gripping her hand in his instead, and she understood the gesture.

        "I'm really glad you're all right," he said, his voice tight with emotion.  "I'm sorry."

        "You promised you wouldn't apologize," she said, wiping at her eyes.  When had she turned into such an emotional train wreck?

        "I wasn't talking about what happened with Malfoy."

        That was all it took for her to realize she didn't have to hold herself together any longer in front of him.  She sat up and hugged him tightly.  Harry didn't know what to do except hug her back as she buried her face against his shoulder.  He didn't mind at all that she was making his shirt wet with her tears.


	32. The Protection Spell

A/N:  Okay, so I'm getting closer and closer to the end – at long last.  Weight of the World is going to be 36 chapters in total.  That means that after this one, there's only four more chapters to go!  Anyways, I just wanted to say a quick thank you to all my reviewers.  I really appreciate all the feedback you've given me throughout the story, especially as I'm getting nearer to the end of it.  Happy reading!

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO:  The Protection Spell

        Harry was nervous – or maybe scared might have been a better word to describe what he was feeling at that precise moment.  He wasn't afraid for himself, but for the people that might be in peril because of the spell they would be performing in thirty minutes time.  He stood in the dimly lit Great Hall, completely devoid of any students at such a late hour.  Up until that morning he had still been contemplating the notion of not going through with the protection spell.  Lupin had tried assuring him that the risks to those involved were minimal, even though there was no way to be certain with the spell being completely untested and all.  Harry had finally agreed to it because of the fact that once the spell was completed, it would not affect the others in any way.  If he died in battle, no harm would come to any of them.  He still had his reservations about the whole thing, but they had no other course of action to follow, and the sudden lack of reports in the _Daily Prophet_ about dark activities made Harry all the more certain that Voldemort was just biding his time until he attacked.  

        Just as he was pondering about what kind of assault Voldemort would likely be planning, Sirius joined him in the Great Hall.  When it became clear that Harry was not going to be the one to initiate conversation, Sirius spoke.

        "Remus gave me your message," he started, unsure of what to say, as this was the first conversation between them since Harry's angry departure from his home.  "Thank you for bringing me in on this."

        Harry deliberately turned and faced the direction away from his godfather.  "It doesn't change anything.  I meant what I said.  The only reason you're here is because Professor Lupin said we needed someone who knew me in order to make the spell stronger."

        "Harry, I know how angry you are with me – and I'll give you as much space as you need – but I will _never_ cut myself out of your life."

        "You don't get it, do you?"  Harry rounded on him.  "There isn't a single thing you can do to fix what you've done, so stop trying."

        The sound of footsteps behind them ended whatever reply Sirius had planned before he even had a chance to begin.  Harry sent a final glare his way before turning his attention on the newcomers.  It was Ginny, flanked on either side by Ron and Hermione.  

        "Are we just waiting for Professor Lupin?"  Hermione asked, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room.

        "He'll be here soon," Sirius said to her.  "He had a few last minute preparations to make."

        "Like what?"  Harry asked him before he could stop himself.

        "Just some additional precautions.  Nothing any of you need to worry about," Sirius said to them.

        Harry begged to differ, but he wasn't up for another round of yelling with his godfather.  He trusted Lupin enough to know that he wouldn't hide anything vital from them.

        Across from Harry, Hermione took a seat at one of the House benches.  She was still recovering from being poisoned and was quite a long way off from looking like her old self.  Dark circles hung under her eyes and her skin colour remained rather pale. 

        "We can wait a few more nights if you're not feeling up to this," Harry said to her.

          "Harry, _you_ know we have to do this tonight," she said adamantly.  "Something's going to happen soon, and the longer we wait, the greater the chance is of us being caught unprepared."

        "He's right," Ron said from the other side of Harry.  "We should wait until you've regained your strength."

        It was almost strange to hear Ron speaking to her.  They couldn't have spoken more than a few words to each other since her release from the hospital wing.  Harry wished there was something he could do.  At least when they were fighting he had always known what to say, but now he didn't have a clue.  

        "I _can_ do this," she said unwaveringly.

        Both he and Ron knew that determination sound in her voice all too well.  No amount of arguing they could do would be able to discourage her.

        "Sorry to keep you all waiting," came Lupin's voice as he entered the Great Hall.  "Is everyone ready?"

        There were murmurs of 'yes', and Lupin began handing out a piece of parchment with some scribbled words on it to everyone.  "At precisely midnight recite this incantation out loud three times with your wands pointed straight up in the air.  The energy created should produce a visible barrier that will travel through the four wands and then end up on mine, where I will recite a similar incantation to transfer the energy to Harry through his scar."  

        They all performed time charms on their watches so that they would all show the exact same time, and then all that was left was for everyone to go to their assigned spots and wait.

        "Is there any questions?"

        No one spoke.  Maybe it was because no one knew what to say.  They all stood looking as somber as ever.  

        "If anything happens send a warning out through your wands and we'll come to you," Lupin instructed Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

        Hermione touched Harry's arm briefly and Ron gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before walking out.  He saw conflicting emotions run across Ginny's face but she didn't say anything to him before following behind her brother and Hermione.

        "I'll see you both in a bit," Sirius said, trying to keep his tone light.  "Good luck."

        He and Lupin exchanged handshakes and pats on the back, and Harry thought Sirius was going to do the same with him, and he did, except he gripped Harry's shoulder tightly and stared at him so intently, it threw Harry for a moment.  His look had lost all the things he had come to associate with his godfather.  He was looking at Harry the way a father would stare at their son.  Harry wanted to say something, but Sirius was already walking away and he couldn't think about it any longer.  He and Lupin needed to get set up.  There was only ten minutes to midnight.

        Waiting was the hardest part for Harry.  Even with the correct time fast approaching, he began to feel more uncertain about the whole thing.  Lupin looked just as uneasy.  That was because he had the most important part in the spell.  Once all the energies from the magical hot spots surrounding the school were transferred to his wand, he then had to transfer them to Harry.  There was no doubt in Harry's mind that it would be painful.  Anything that had to do with his scar always had, but he would endure whatever he had to for the spell to work.

        Lupin caught him absently running his fingers over his lightning bolt scar, and said, "I don't know how painful it will be."   

        Harry acknowledged that he had heard him, but remained silent.  Lupin knew as well as he did that even if he was in agony, it would be far better then ending the spell prematurely.  Too many things could go wrong if they stopped it before the transfer was complete.

        "One more minute," Lupin told him, glancing down at his watch.  

        The house tables had been pushed back against the walls, leaving Harry and Lupin with a wide-open space in the middle of the room. 

        If Sirius had it his way, it would have been him in the room, not Lupin.  But Harry had been so reluctant even to let him in on the spell, that his professor had convinced Sirius it would be better for everyone involved if he performed the transfer part instead.  Sirius hadn't liked it, but Lupin had finally managed to convince him.

        "Ten seconds," Lupin warned.

        Harry forced himself to clear his mind of all thoughts as Lupin had instructed him during an earlier practice session.  He took slow, steadying breaths and closed his eyes.

        "Time," announced Lupin.

        Harry kept his breathing steady, focusing only on the Latin incantation his Professor was reading.  Lupin had run through it with him several times beforehand that he understood every word that was being spoken.  The words were recited three times as they were supposed to be, and for a moment there was total silence, before Harry felt a hot, bright light being directed at him.  He chanced opening his eyes and stared out in wonder at the crackling energy suspended above Lupin's head with his wand.  Lupin gave him a small, regretful look before bringing his wand down and touching it to Harry's scar.  At first, Harry felt nothing except a slight tingling sensation.  Then Lupin said, "_protect,_" and he felt the searing hot pain tear through his scar.  It was agony, and he tried to fight off gasping out in pain but couldn't.  If he had been capable of thought he would have been thinking how something that was supposed to protect him could be so bloody painful.  It was ripping through his skull and body, making it appear as if he were going through convulsions – then it all stopped.  No longer being held up by the waves of energy, he crumpled to the floor, his breathing coming in ragged breaths.  He tried to sit up and was only able to do so with Lupin's assistance.

        "Harry, I'm sorry.  I should have known this would happen."

        "What do you mean?"  Harry said when he was capable of speaking.

        "Your scar is surrounded by dark energy.  I should have anticipated that it would try and fight the protection spell to preserve itself," he explained.  

        "Well, it sure put up a good fight," said Harry, pushing himself to his feet, feeling the strength slowly returning to his body.

        "What happened?"  Hermione cried, running in and seeing Lupin grip Harry's arm with a steadying hand as he swayed slightly on his feet.

        "Just a bit of stubbornness on the part of my scar, but I'm fine now," he assured her.

        She didn't believe him but there was no point in pestering him further as the others came rushing in and would very likely start doing the same.  

        He tried assuring them all that he was fine, and Sirius seemed to be the most skeptical of them all.

        "I think you should head back to Gryffindor Tower," Lupin said to him.  "Get a good night's sleep and you'll feel better in the morning."

        Harry whole-heartedly agreed, and with Ron and Hermione standing guard on either side of him, they began to walk back to the common room.  

        When they were inside Gryffindor Tower, he told his friends he would head up to bed in a bit.  It took quite a bit of convincing, but he was eventually successful in shaking off their concern and they left him alone in the common room.  Even being as exhausted as he was, sleep seemed to be the farthest thing on his mind.

        When he heard the portrait hole swing open, he remained standing where he was, with his back to it.

        "Do you think it worked?"  She asked, coming up behind him.

        Of course she would be brave enough to ask the one question everyone else had been too afraid to ask.  "I don't know," he answered honestly, turning around so he was facing Ginny. 

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about what happened tonight."

"And what would that be?"  He said, even though he knew what she was referring to.

"Things are not okay between us, Harry."

"I know that, but what you said – you had to have felt – " He shook his head and started over.  "Lupin said for the spell to be bound to me, the people involved had to have some sort of emotional attachment to me."  The word he wanted to say was _love_, but something was stopping him from being able to say it.

"I did what I had to for the sake of the spell," she said, keeping her expression carefully guarded.  "It still doesn't change anything."

He did not understand how she could stand there and say nothing had changed.  He still expected her to be angry with him, but not this.  "Can we go somewhere and talk?"  

"I can't," was her immediate response.  "I have to pack."

"Pack?"  Harry echoed.  "For what?  Where are you going?"

The look on her face told him she never had any intention of telling him, but had already said this much, so kept going.  "There's a medical training seminar starting tomorrow for five days.  Students from wizarding schools all over Europe will be there."

"But you have school," he protested, not sure why he was trying to keep her from leaving.

"I've worked ahead so I won't miss much.  It's all reviewing now anyways.  Madame Pomfrey approved it and my parents signed the permission form."

"Why didn't you say anything before now?"

"Because we weren't talking," she reminded him.

"And whose fault was that?"  He snapped.

Her face took on a look that was very similar to Ron's when he was close to losing his temper.  "Harry, I don't want to fight with you because that's all we seem to do anymore, and I'm sick of it.  But I'm not the only one who's at fault here."

She hurried up the staircase to the girl's dormitory, extracting all thoughts of Harry from her mind and focusing solely on what she would need to bring with her tomorrow.  A five-day break from Harry would be exactly what she needed.  She would come back with a clearer head and they would only have to see each other for one more week before summer vacation began.

In all her previous years at Hogwarts, and even during her current one, Hermione had always just walked into the boys' dorm if the door was open.  But things change and she decided to knock, even though Ron was standing right there, bent over his trunk, rummaging around inside.

He looked up in annoyance, but his expression softened when he saw it was her.  "I can't remember the last time you knocked."

"It was third year," she said, remembering it as clearly as if it had happened last week.  "Both you and Harry weren't speaking to me because I told Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt."

"I remember," he said, straightening.

She felt ridiculous for feeling this awkward around him.  It was Ron, the person she had shared everything with for as long as she could remember.  That single reason was probably what was contributing to making her so uncomfortable around him.  Everything had changed so drastically between them they didn't know how to act around each other anymore.  It closely resembled what had happened when they had first gotten together at the end of their fifth year.  The difference now was this awkwardness wasn't likely to disappear with a few shared kisses in public and Ron walking her to class.  

They had barely spoken since the protection spell – not that they had been speaking all that much before then.  It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him, but she didn't know what to say that wouldn't come out sounding stupid or forced.  She was sure it was the same for him.  Oddly enough, she found herself wishing they would get into a row.  She much preferred yelling and arguing to this silent treatment they were giving each other.  She finally understood what Harry must have been going through with Ginny – knowing exactly what you wanted to say, but being unable to say it.  

Before she lost her nerve and left, she crossed the room and handed him the two sweaters tucked under her arms.  "You forgot these in my room.  I just wanted to give them back to you."

"Um, thanks," he said, struggling to find the right words to say.

She turned to go, but his hand touched her arm.  For that brief second that his skin was touching hers it felt like nothing had changed.  "My feelings for you won't change."

She really wished he had just let her go, because she wasn't ready to have this conversation with him.

"I won't lie and say I'm okay with things the way they are," he went on.  "I don't even know if I'm capable of just being you best friend.  I – I just thought you should know that," he said, looking away.

She didn't have a response to that, but he did not look to be expecting one.

Their conversation followed her to bed that night.  She lied awake for hours, and time and time again kept coming up with the same realization.  Was it even possible for two people who had shared so much to go back to simply being friends?


	33. The Final Battle

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:  The Final Battle

It was the final weekend before N.E.W.T. examinations would begin.  The exams would be spread out over the course of one week, and the results were to be mailed out to everyone during the first week of summer holidays.

It was a beautiful, clear Saturday afternoon outside, and the only reason you could tell how close they were to summer holidays was by glancing around at the amount of students packed into the library.  Filled beyond capacity, Madame Pince had to conjure up dozens of extra tables and chairs to accommodate everyone.  

Harry had already finished with his daily review of Care of Magical Creatures.  He had that exam Monday afternoon, but of all his subjects it was the one he was the least worried about.  He had faith that Hagrid would not give them anything too challenging.  He would look over his notes one last time on Monday morning when he got back from his Herbology exam.

He was proud of how well his revising was going, when he came across a passage on medicinal herbs that grew in the wild and were known to have enormous healing powers.  He started thinking of where Ginny was at that particular moment, and what he would say to her when she came back Sunday night.  He hated how the last conversation they had before her departure had been an argument. 

"Harry!"  Hermione snapped at him in a hushed voice.

She brought him out of his daydream like trance, and he realized he'd been tapping his quill against the open book in front of him.  "Sorry," he apologized sheepishly.  The last thing he wanted to do was make Hermione snap two days before the start of what would be the biggest examinations of their lives.

"You've been in a state like this since Ginny left," she said, allowing herself a momentary breather from her studying.  "I'd say you've gotten to the point where you're beyond unbearable."

"All this studying is just getting to me is all."

"No, that's not it," she said, not believing him for a second.  "You can't understand that after what happened with the spell that Ginny's still angry with you, correct?"

Harry looked over at Ron who had stopped studying as well to listen, before shrugging in response to Hermione's question.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" She said in exasperation.  "You read her diary, for Merlin's sake!  It's the most private and personal possession a girl owns.  That's an ultimate breach in trust right there."

"I know that!"  Harry cried in a loud whisper, causing Madame Pomfrey to send a scowl of disapproval his way.  "But if I hadn't I never would have known that Sirius was responsible for breaking us up."

"That's no excuse, Harry," she told him.  "Look, she's not mad at you for finding out about Sirius.  I'm sure she's relieved that you finally know.  What she's angry about is everything you read leading up to and after what Sirius did.  There's a lot of things in there she never wanted anyone to know, and probably a lot of them had to do with you."

Harry sank back against his chair.  Of course he had come across plenty of personal stuff about himself, and as much as he had wanted to skip it, his curiousity won out at wanting to know what Ginny had wrote about him.  Some of it was so personal he had blushed just reading it.  But when she had asked, he had lied and said he had skimmed over mostly everything.  He didn't want to embarrass her any more then she already had been at the time.

"I know if someone ever read my diary I'd probably never speak to them again."

"You have a diary?"  Both boys said in unison.

"That's not the point," she said, slightly flustered.  "The point is Ginny is well within her right never to speak to you again, Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione.  That makes me feel _so_ much better," Harry remarked sarcastically.

Hermione looked at him sharply.  "Then find out where she is and go to her.  Make her listen."

"Even if I did that, I wouldn't know what to say to her."

"Tell her how sorry you are.  Tell her if you had to do it over, you wouldn't read her diary."

"I can tell her all that tomorrow night when she gets back."

"It might mean more to her if you do it before then," Hermione pointed out to him.

"When did you become such a hopeless romantic?"  Ron teased.

"I just know where Ginny's coming from, and if Harry wants to have a chance with her, he might have to do a few extreme things."

"Just how extreme are we talking?" Harry asked, somewhat worried.  If she was expecting him to become some romantic guy to win Ginny back, he would never be able to do that.  He might as well just give up now.

"Harry, forget about that for now.  Just focus on finding Ginny and telling her everything you should have told her before she left," Hermione advised him.

"Harry, just do whatever you have to do to find my sister, because you're driving us both up the bloody wall," Ron complained.

Harry looked at them both, carefully considering his options.  He could wait another day for her to return, and continue to drive his friends crazy in the process.  Or he could find out where she was, tell her everything and be back in time for dinner, with a much clearer head.  At the very least, they would be able to resolve some issues, though whether it would be for the better he didn't know.  What he did know was that the way things were between Ginny and himself, he had nothing to lose by going to her.  There was no possible way he could make the situation any worse.  

After a great deal of begging, Harry was finally able to convince the Hogwarts Matron to tell him Ginny's whereabouts.  He tried to make it seem like it was a matter of life and death, and she had finally, albeit in a very disgruntled way, coughed up the information.  He used the tunnel inside Hogwarts to sneak into Hogsmeade.  From the fireplace inside the Three Broomsticks he used it to transport himself to the Leaky Cauldron in London.  From there, he grabbed a portkey (a rusted old pop bottle) lying against a garbage can down a deserted alleyway, which transported him to a small community on the outskirts of London.

It wasn't until he had walked almost halfway through the small wizarding town that he saw the medium-sized castle where Ginny had to be staying.  It could almost be described as a miniature version of Hogwarts, except it looked a lot less elaborative.  Some parts looked frayed and old, and certain sections looked like the only reason they had not collapsed was because they were being held in place by magic alone.

He was able to pinpoint Ginny among the groups of robed wizards and witches walking around.  There was a gargoyle fountain out in front, spraying water into the air, and that's where he spotted Ginny.  She was sitting with two other witches who looked to be around the same age as her.  She didn't notice Harry until the other witches with her looked up at the stranger approaching them.

"Hi," he said to her, shifting uncomfortably on his feet because he was uncertain as to how she would react at seeing him there.

She looked completely thrown at his presence.  "How did you know to come here?"

"You'd be surprised at how understanding Madame Pomfrey can be."

Ginny stood up and quietly excused herself from the girls she was sitting with.  Then she grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him a safe distance away so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Why did you follow me?"  She sounded angry.

"I needed to talk to you," he said, and it sounded lame even to his own ears.

"Look, Harry, I'll be back tomorrow.  I'm sure whatever it is it can wait 'til then."

She meant to walk away and leave him standing there, but he made a quick move to block her path.

"I didn't come all this way so you could just keep on pretending that you hate me."

She folded her arms across her chest.  "Then what did you come here for?"  She challenged.

He thought about what Hermione had told him to say.  He really did want to stop fighting and make up, but he wasn't going to take the apologetic route anymore.  He'd already done that and it had gotten him nowhere.  But he did intend to follow through on Hermione's advice about telling her what he should have since the beginning of all this.  

"I'm not sorry that I read your diary," he said, and watched as her face transform into a mask of fury.  "But we've both betrayed each other's trust, so don't tell me what I did was unforgivable, when what you did was just as inexcusable."

"And that's supposed to justify what you did?"

"Were you any more justified in doing what you did?"  He shot back.  "You should have came to me and told me about Sirius.  Then I wouldn't have spent months trying to force myself to hate you."

"Sirius, wasn't so far off, Harry.  I knew he was right, even if I didn't want to admit it.  You would have sacrificed too much for me."

He was growing weary of all this arguing.  They weren't making any progress.  All the blaming had to stop.  "I don't want to fight with you anymore.  I'm just as sick of it as you are.  What we need to talk about it is how each of us really feels."

He was talking about love, she was sure of that.  But where she had always made her feelings as open as a book to him, Harry's had always been distorted and unsure.  She knew he cared for her, but what she had never known was how deep his feelings for her ran.  He had always purposely kept a certain amount of distance from her.  Maybe he was afraid of getting too close, but how could she love someone who was incapable of saying the words out loud?

"Harry, you know how I feel – you've always known.  But what I don't know and have never known is what you _really_ feel for me.  Maybe you're scared to say it, or maybe you can't because you've never known what real love is, so where does that leave us?"

He felt like their whole future was riding on what he said next, and even though he knew what he had to say, the one word that fix all of this, he just couldn't.  He could scream out that he loved her, but would she spend the rest of her life wondering if he had actually meant it or if she had simply forced him into saying it?

Without warning, the ground rumbled beneath his feet, and the sound of screaming pierced his ears.  He and Ginny looked up in time to see the top tower of the castle catch fire.  Several meters away, wearing cloaks as dark as night, fourteen or more figures began apparating in small groups around them.  Those caught off guard by the attack were the first ones taken down.  Even when more wizards and witches came outside with their wands, ready to do battle, the casualties continued to mount.

Down the road in the town they could hear the sounds of destruction as windows shattered and houses were set ablaze.  Without even knowing how, Harry knew wasn't like any of the attacks reported by the _Daily Prophet_.  This was _it_.  This was the end.  Voldemort was finally coming out – and Harry knew where he would go first.

"We have to get back to Hogwarts," he said urgently, dragging Ginny with him – but she pulled free of his grasp, and he saw the struggle going on behind her eyes as she spoke.

"_You_ have to go.  I need to stay here.  They're going to need my help with all the injured."

He heard her, but he wasn't listening.  He was prepared to carry her kicking and screaming if he had to.  Her family would never forgive him if he abandoned her there, even if it was of her own free will.

"I _need_ you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Despite the mass destruction going on around them she managed to smile.  "You already have everything you need from me," she said, and placed her hand on his chest where his heart was.

He couldn't bring himself to say good-bye, because he felt that if he did that he would be sealing both their fates.  So he ran, without looking back.  Even when a second explosion rocked the ground behind him he forced himself to keep going.  Deep in his gut, he knew the worst was yet to come.  He needed to get back to Hogwarts and warn everyone before that happened.

        They were halfway through reciting medicinal plants that found in South Africa that could heal burns instantaneously, when Ron heatedly suggested they both take a break.  Hermione might be a machine when it came to studying but he wasn't.  There was already so much information packed into his brain he felt he would explode if he continued a second longer.  Once he got some food into his system he prayed his concentration would come back.

        Hermione insisted that he go, and that she would stay behind, but he was having none of that.  "Do you want to kill yourself even before your first exam?  You've been at this for hours straight, so I don't care if I have to drag you out of here cursing my name, but you're coming."

        She closed her book, managing to keep an annoyed air about her for having her studies interrupted, when the truth was she was exhausted.  It was not just from revising, either.  There were several other worries that popped into her head when she let her attention wonder even for the briefest of seconds.  When it came down to it her grades should have been the least of her worries.  She would be leaving for a completely foreign country in a few months time, Harry was a wreck, and the threat of an attack by Voldemort loomed closer every day.  But none of that concerned her nearly as much as it should have.  She was too caught up in wondering what would happen to her and Ron after Hogwarts.  She wanted him to be a part of her life, but how much of a role would he play with them living their lives in two different worlds?  She didn't even know if they would be able to work things out, as Harry was currently trying to do with Ginny.

        "Did you think they'll work things out?"  Ron asked suddenly, as if reading her thoughts.  

        She answered with a shrug.  "It depends on if they're both able to put everything that's happened behind them.  Even then it might not be enough."

        "Harry won't admit it but he's mad about her.  And Ginny, well, she's been in love with him forever."

        "Sometimes love isn't enough," she said quietly.

        "What's that supposed to mean?"

        She put extra effort into closing up her schoolbooks, so she wouldn't have to look at him when she answered.  "Sometimes no matter how badly two people want something it doesn't happen.  People change, Ron, and for one reason or another they grow apart and things don't work out."

        "Are we still talking about my sister and Harry?"

        She chose not to reply and packed up the remainder of her school things.  When she slung her bag over her shoulder and looked back at him the look he was sending her way she knew quite well.

        "You're angry," she said, stating the obvious.

        "Of course I'm angry!  I had to sit there and listen to you spew out relationship advice to Harry when I don't even have a clue what to do to make things better with us.  Look at us, we can't even stand being in the same room together.  We're not even friends right now – we're nothing to each other.  And it's about time we acknowledged that fact and stop pretending like things will get better on their own."

        She couldn't help herself for feeling angry with him at that moment.  He was being completely unfair.  This whole mess that had once been a strong and loving relationship, was not all her fault.  She was not the only one who had messed up.

        An angry retort was on the tip of her tongue, when the whole library rumbled around them.  Bookshelves came crashing to the floor and the ceiling above them began to crack and break away in spots.  

        Ron looked at her, and without saying a word they both came to the same conclusion about what was happening.  Their own problems suddenly seemed petty to what was going on around them.  

        "Come on, we've got to get to Gryffindor Tower," Ron said to her.  His voice was steady, but the look in his eyes told her he was just as frightened as she was.

        Mass panic spread through the library like an epidemic.  No one was screaming but everyone was far from calm.  Madame Pince had charmed her voice and was attempting to direct the students over the noise.

Hermione and Ron squeezed there way through the chaos of students until they could move more freely in the halls.  They met up with Neville and Seamus on the way out of the library, and found Dean, Lavender and Pavarti on the second floor, heading in their direction.

        "Where's Harry?"  Lavender asked.

        "He's not here," Hermione replied as calmly as she could.

        "He'll be back," Ron said before Lavender could say anything more.  He exchanged a quick look with Hermione after, the both of them knowing that by the time Harry got back, everything could be over – one way or another.  But Hermione had to believe that somehow he would figure out what was happening and come back, even when a part of her prayed he would stay away.

        They took the shortest route they knew of back to the common room, hearing several more explosions along the way, each one sounding far off.  They tried to be as stealthy as possible, not knowing how far the invaders had infiltrated Hogwarts.  They jogged in single file with their wands out, with one person checking around every corner they came to, as Lupin had showed them.  Once the 'all clear' signal was given, they would continue on.  

When they reached the common room, Dean Thomas pulled back a large portrait of the Hogwarts coat of arms and began handing out weapons they had trained with in Lupin's class.  Lupin had gone through several mock attack scenarios with them before, but they had never faced any really dangerous foes during those exercises.  It was typically bogarts that their professor would release throughout the school for the training exercise.

        "We need to split up into two groups," Pavarti spoke at once.  "If they're already inside the castle we're too easy to spot as one group."

        No one liked the idea of splitting up, but it was the most logical choice to avoid being seen.  In the end, Hermione was with Lavender and Seamus, and Ron with Neville, Dean and Pavarti.  The plan was meet up by the secret entrance Lupin had showed them into the castle, and from there proceed on to the grounds.

        While they rearranged themselves into their groups and began the first talks of battle strategies, Ron gently pulled Hermione aside.  He wanted to tell he didn't mean any of what he had in the library, that he had been acting like a git as usual, but his brain seemed incapable of forming the words.  Instead, he said, "be careful out there."

        "You too," she said, keeping her voice low.  "No heroics."

It didn't matter that everyone was around and could see them.  Ron brought his lips down to Hermione's for one quick kiss, before pulling away.  Anything more and she would have thought he meant to say goodbye – that they weren't going to make it through this.  He didn't want her to think that.  He wanted her to know that they would both be there when it was all over.  As far as he could tell, she understood what he was trying to get across to her.  

        They moved away from each other without saying a word to join their respective groups.  Hermione didn't look back at him as her group departed first.  Exactly one minute later, Ron left with Pavarti, Neville and Dean, heading in the opposite direction.

        Some part of Harry's brain was holding on to the idea that upon reaching Hogwarts, he would find it as he had left it.  He would be able to warn everyone before any bloodshed started.  But any hopes he had were destroyed when he saw the place he had called home for the last seven years under attack.

        He had only his wand with him, but that would have to be enough.  There would be no retreating inside to better arm himself against the onslaught of Death Eaters.

        He watched in horror as students fought losing battles against the followers of Voldemort, but the masked figures in hooded cloaks were not Harry's main concern.  He fought when he had to, but he pushed on.  His primary target remained unseen as of yet.

        He frantically searched for any sign of Ron or Hermione, but it was futile with the haze of people and the battle going on around him.  The front gate to the school had been destroyed and Death Eaters were plunging their way inside by the dozen.  The amount of rubble around him told Harry it was very likely a section of the castle had already been destroyed.

        Pain erupted in Harry's scar far worse then he had ever experienced before.  He stumbled to an area partially covered with collapsed stones from the castle wall before collapsing to his knees.  It was like a thousand knives being stabbed into his forehead, threatening to drive him to the brink of unconsciousness.  As impossible as it seemed, he forced himself to try and block it out.  When he did, the pain ebbed a way to be nothing more than a dull ache.  It was the first time he had felt any indication that the protection spell was working – at least that's what he thought it was.

        He heard a frantic voice calling his name.  Neville was limping towards him.  When he was close enough Harry could see the outline of a nasty bruise forming on his cheekbone.

        "Have you seen Ron or Hermione?"  Harry asked him.

        "I haven't seen Hermione since we left the castle," he replied.  "I got separated from Ron and the others."

        "How bad are you hurt?"

        Neville shook off his concern.  "I'll be fine.  I've got off easy compared to some."

        Harry was struck by how calm he sounded.  He sounded nothing like the nervous, accident-prone friend he had come to know during his time at Hogwarts.  

        Something large and dark moving in the distance caught Harry's eyes.  He fought off a sense of fear rising in him.  Ignoring Neville's shouts, He took off, back into the thick of the fighting again.  He lost sight of the billowing cloak and cursed openly.  He saw the section of the castle wall that had been blown away earlier in the battle and ran for it.  It was inside.  That was the only way it could have escaped so fast.

        A strong arm clamped around his, and he had his wand out to shout a string of hexes, when he recognized who had grabbed him.  Without saying a word, Harry knew Lupin meant to stop him from going inside.

        "Let go!  I have to get in there!"  Harry shouted at his professor.

        "Harry, that's what he wants.  You'll be trapped," Lupin said urgently.

        With some effort, Harry pushed him off and started running again.  Lupin meant to follow but he was cornered by two Death Eaters.  Harry was torn between staying and helping his professor and going after Voldemort, but Lupin looked to be holding his own, and Harry had little time to make up his mind.  Wand at the ready, he made his choice and entered the school through the blown apart wall.

        The torches lining the hallways that always seemed to burn no matter what time of day it was, were unlit, and the increasing sense of foreboding told Harry he was going in the right direction.  He could not seem to shake the feeling that the scene in front of him was eerily reminiscent of a nightmare he had awoken from shaking some months before.   He tried not to think about what he might find when he reached his destination.

        The aching of his scar came back to him just as powerful as before, though he was not nearly as successful in quelling it away as he had done earlier.  But he was successful enough that he become aware of the crackling bolt of red energy hurtling towards him a split second before it was too late.  He threw himself out of harm's way, landing hard on his side, but avoiding the attack.  Before a second bolt of energy could hit him, he shouted the defensive shield charm, protecting himself completely.

        "At least you're attempting to make this challenging for me.  But don't think I can't break through a silly little defensive charm," Voldemort's voice sneered.

        "You won't think the rest of what I've learned is silly," Harry countered, hauling himself to his feet.

        "You arrogant boy, I could destroy you where you stand.  You are only delaying your demise."

        In the time it took for Harry to take in a breath of air, Voldemort swooped down in front of him.  He reached out with a skeletal-like index finger and plunged it deep into Harry's midsection, and started carving its way through.  Harry screamed as the finger continued gouging deeper and deeper.  It was pulled out as quickly as it had entered and an invisible force hurled him into the nearest wall.  Gasping in agony, Harry put a hand against the wound.  Looking down, he saw the blood flowing freely from it, covering his entire hand.

        "If you thought I would let your death be easy and painless after your continuous attempts to thwart my coming into power, you are an even more stupid boy then I thought."

        Harry brought himself shakily to his feet, his one hand clutching his wound and the other wrapped tightly around his wand as he shouted a curse at Voldemort.  On a mortal human, it would have knocked them unconscious instantly, but it only had the effect of making the Dark Lord stumble slightly.

        Voldemort retaliated with a curse of his own.  Harry's defensive shield took the brunt of the attack, but it still had the effect of shaking him up.  Before he could recover the Dark Lord struck again.  The curse was unknown to Harry, and he thought Voldemort was using it to try and take his head off, but he had been aiming for his scar all along.

        The pain was blinding and he felt his wand slip from his fingers.  The fate of wizard kind rested on his hands and he could barely sit up.  The protection spell wasn't working, and it was all his fault.  He wasn't strong enough.  Everyone was going to die if he didn't turn things around and stop Voldemort.

        As paralyzing as the pain in his head was, he felt it starting to subside somewhat – or at the very least he was learning to tolerate it.  He was struck by a sudden revelation.  The only times he had felt the protection spell working were when his scar was in agony and he worried about letting everyone down.  Suddenly Harry knew none of what he had been taught in class would help him win.  Fighting Voldemort on his grounds made him no better then the Dark Lord.  He only had one chance of defeating his enemy.  It was using the weapons Voldemort did not possess.

        He struggled to stand and face the thing that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember.  The snake-like face had its thin lips curled up in a grotesque smile, sensing that victory was imminent.  Harry left his wand where it lay on the floor and instead closed his eyes, hoping to summon the elements of the binding protection spell.  He ignored the sinister laughter coming from his opponent.  

        "You make this too easy for me.  If you think I'm going to spare your pathetic life, I will show you how gravely mistaken you are."

        Even with his eyes shut, Harry sensed the impending attack, but strangely he was not afraid. He was gambling his life on a chance, but it was what he had to do – what he had been destined to do since the day of his birth.  Win or lose, it would all be over shortly.  A peacefulness he had never before known filled him.  When the first curse wrapped itself around his body, it brought no pain with it.  It even seemed to add to his own strength.  He felt a bright light on his face, and opened his eyes to see what was happening.  He soon realized that the light was coming from him.  It seemed to stretch out in great beams in every direction.  The instant they touched Voldemort he was screaming in agony.  The light persisted, and within moments each beam was focused on the Dark Lord.

        For Harry, he felt his years of friendship with Ron and Hermione stronger then he ever had before.  The stronger the feelings got, the more agony Voldemort seemed to be in.  He let his thoughts turn to Sirius, the man who had given him his first real family, and then to the Weasley's, his substitute family, who had treated him as he were one of their own.  He kept letting the happy memories flood through him, and though Voldemort's screams were piercing his ears, it had no effect on him.  He thought about the day Hagrid had explained to him what he was and then his first day at Hogwarts.  His thoughts turned to Ginny and how if by some miracle he made it through this, he would tell her how he really felt.  He would tell her he was in love with her and she was the best part of him.

Voldemort's body was shaking violently and looked as if it was being torn apart from the inside, when the light surrounding Harry exploded and with it shattered the Dark Lord into tiny pieces that vanished with the light before they hit the ground.

        The strength Harry had been feeling filter through him was gone now, and he slumped to the ground in utter exhaustion.  He forced his eyes to stay open.  He needed to be sure that Voldemort was gone.  But without even raising his head, he knew.  The Dark Lord was gone.  He had battled Voldemort for a final time and won.  The reality of it all would have to wait, for Harry felt his eyelids growing heavy.  He wanted nothing more to sleep.  He wanted to but shouting voices that he recognized as Lupin and McGonagall kept him from doing so.

        Lupin reached his side first.  "Harry, are you all right?  What happened?"

        "He's gone," Harry mumbled weakly.

        "It makes sense," said McGonagall.  "we saw the surviving Death Eaters retreating."

        "It was the spell," he said wearily.

        "Harry, I want you to stay here.  We're going back outside – "

        "No, I'm coming with you," Harry protested.  Using what little strength he had left, he forced himself to stand.

        Seeing the futility in arguing, Lupin helped him outside.

        They passed by numerous casualties, many of them badly bloodied and unconscious.  They stopped only to aid the ones who had not yet received any help.  Harry saw Seamus and a couple of Ravenclaws huddled around an unmoving figure.  His heart leapt when he saw Hermione standing with them.  She was cut and bruised but looked to have escaped with minimal injuries.  But he felt the last of his strength ebb away when he saw who they were huddled around.  Ron lay unmoving on the ground, his leg stretched out in awkward fashion.

        Lupin left him standing where he was and hurried to help Seamus get Ron to his feet.

        Hermione saw Harry standing there and ran to him, enfolding her arms tightly around him.  She didn't say anything, and there was no need to.  After everything they had seen and experienced, there were no words to express.  It was enough that they were alive – that they had survived.  Harry prayed that Ron was not seriously hurt.  That was his final thought before his grip on Hermione slackened and he slumped to the ground.


	34. Recovery

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:  Recovery

        Feet pattering against the floor, and loud moaning coming from every possible direction tore Harry from his unconscious state.  He was lying on a cot inside the Great Hall, and surrounding him were row upon row of makeshift beds. Each one was occupied by a student, some unconscious, while others nursed minor to severe injuries. 

        With some difficulty Harry pushed himself off the cot and onto his feet.  He lifted up his shirt to see the wound on his lower abdomen hastily bandaged, but he felt minimal discomfort from it.  Madame Pomfrey must have given him a healing sedative.

        Walking through the maze of beds, he noticed several dozen nurses he had never seen before tending to those of greatest need.  The Ministry had to have brought them in to help with the crisis.  If they had medical personnel to expense perhaps the damage away from Hogwarts was minimal.  But Harry did not really want to think about any of that right now.

        Someone was calling his name.  He barely had time to register who it was before a blur of arms flung themselves around his neck.

        "Everyone was so worried when you passed out," Hermione said once she had released him.  "You lost a lot of blood.  Sirius – "

        "Sirius was here?"

        "He still is.  He's outside with the other ministry officers searching through the wreckage."

        There was no need for her to say they were searching for bodies, because Harry knew well enough there were probably many unaccounted students and teachers.

        "How's Ron?"

        Her face fell.  "He's the same," she replied, unable to mask the deep worry in her voice.  

        "Can we see him?"

        "I was just on my way back there.  His family's with him right now."

        Harry found it difficult to keep his voice steady when he voiced his next question.  "Ginny?"

        Hermione silently shook her head.  For Harry's sake she tried to keep the concern from her face.

        The halls were eerily deserted.  They saw the occasional ministry worker investigating areas that had been brutally damaged or destroyed, jotting down notes presumably on how much it would cost to fix it all. 

When they reached the hospital wing and saw the beds lined with casualties filling the connected hallway and the medical ward, there was no doubt this was where the most serious injured were being kept.  Harry kept this thought to himself though, not wanting to worry Hermione anymore then she already was.  Of course, knowing Hermione she had probably already figured that out for herself.

        They found Ron's bed near the wall on the far side of the room.  His mother, the twins, and Charlie were all crowded around him.  When Harry was close enough, Mrs. Weasley all but threw her arms around him.

        "Harry, dear, you had us all so worried!  Are you sure you should be walking around?  Your injuries – "

        "Mum, he made it up here in one piece.  I think he's all right," Charlie gently said to his mother.

        Harry was grateful to Ron's older brother.  He was the last person Mrs. Weasley should be fussing over when her own son was lying there, still and seemingly lifeless except for the small up and down movement of his chest when he breathed.

        "I'm just so happy you're all safe," said Mrs. Weasley, wiping tears from her eyes.  "Arthur and Percy are overrun with situations back in London, and Bill couldn't get out of Egypt with all the riots that started down there.  Harry, are you sure you're all right?  You look like you've been put through the mill."

        That was because he had.  "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really," he said, trying to deflect some of her concern.

        She seemed to let the concern of his health drop.  Harry knew they were all dying to know what had happened between him and Lord Voldemort, but they were respectful enough not to ask.  He didn't feel ready to divulge any stories at the moment.  Defeating Voldemort meant nothing to him as long as Ron stayed in the state he was.

        "Arthur said the moment he got a break he was going to come down here – "

        Mrs. Weasley suddenly stopped talking and before anyone could question why, she was rushing towards the doorway.

        She flung her arms around her daughter much the same way she had done with Harry.

        "I knew you'd be all right," Mrs. Weasley cried, holding Ginny tightly.  When their reunion was over, Ginny was fiercely hugged by each of her brothers in turn.  She managed to exchange a quick smile with Harry, which he returned, before her brother's started hounding her with questions about what had happened over where she had been.

        It wasn't long before Harry started feeling out of place.  The Weasley's probably wanted some time together now that they were reunited with their daughter, and Hermione, being as good as family to them, Harry felt he should give them some time alone.  Honorary Weasley or not, he did not want to intrude.  As discreetly as he could, he detached himself from Ron's family and left the hospital wing.

        From the moment he set foot in the hallway, he could hear someone shouting his name.  Sirius, who was moving faster than Harry had ever seen him, reached his godson in record time and pulled him into a tight bear hug.

        "I went into the Great Hall and you weren't there, and nobody seemed to know where you went.  Are you sure you're not taking any chances by being up and around?"

        "I needed to see Ron," Harry stated.

        Sirius' features softened.  "How is he?"

        "The same," Harry said with a shrug.  He couldn't bring himself to say how bad it looked.  "The Weasley's and Hermione are with him now."

        "So why aren't you in there?"

        "I didn't want to intrude."

        "Harry, you wouldn't be.  You're as much a part of their family as any Weasley.  I bet Molly was so thankful to see you were all right."

        "When did you get here?"  Harry asked, changing the subject.  As much as Harry still resented his godfather, he couldn't help but be glad to see him.  Sirius really was the only family he had.

        "As soon as reports started flying in by the dozen about cloaked figures attacking cities throughout London.  I know it wouldn't be long before they reached here.  Hogsmeade was in shambles, so I stayed to help the few Ministry guards posted there.  But there were too many Death Eaters for us to contain them all without reinforcements," Sirius said regretfully.

        "Is that how they got onto the school grounds?"

        "The unofficial report is that Lucius Malfoy destroyed the spells protecting the school.  Obviously, he had to have help in doing it, but the protection magic is so old and so strong that they were only successful in creating pockets of unprotected space around Hogwarts.  If a Death Eater apparated anywhere other than those designated spots they would be splinched and killed instantly."

        "Where's Lucius Malfoy now?"

        "No one knows," Sirius replied, shrugging.  "They'll still sifting through the wreckage for bodies, but I doubt will find him.  He probably ran away from here the second he found out his Dark Lord had been defeated."

        Harry didn't ask about his son.  If Lucius had found a way to escape, then it was equally as likely Draco had too.

        "Remus says you defeated him all on your own."

        Harry had never seen his godfather look prouder, but he couldn't take all the credit for it.  "That's only partially true.  Without the protection spell he would have killed me."

        "But you were the one who faced him.  You destroyed him."

        Harry rubbed his forehead wearily.  "Can we talk about something else, please?  It's going to be bad enough when the _Prophet_ gets wind of this and tries to paint me as a savior for bringing down the Dark Lord a second time."

        His godfather nodded his head in understanding.  "I should really get back outside anyways.  There's still quite a few people missing," he said, his voice grave.  "Get some rest, Harry.  You deserve it."  He gave Harry an affectionate pat on the shoulder before taking off down the hall.

        Harry stood there, contemplating whether or not he should go back in, but in the end his desire to be alone won out over his desire to sit with the Weasley's and Hermione.  He didn't want to feel like he had to talk about Voldemort.  He didn't want to have to relive any of it so soon afterwards. Where he should have felt like celebrating, wizardkind had been saved yet again, he couldn't bring himself to feel like it was a victory.  In fact, he couldn't bring himself to feel much of anything.

        It was well after midnight when Ginny finally dragged her worn-out body to Gryffindor Tower.  Her mother had insisted she stay with them at the inn in Hogsmeade (one of the few unscathed buildings left there), but she had gently declined.  She did not need her mother fretting about her anymore then she already had.  She didn't really feel like being in the company of other people either.  She didn't want to talk about the horrible atrocities she had witnessed that day.  She had never before dealt with injuries on this scale or had to cover up lifeless bodies.  Up until ten hours ago she had never even seen a dead body before.  What she really wanted to do was sleep and not wake up until summer vacation was over, but with the horrifying images swimming around in her head it was going to be difficult to manage even a full night of rest.

        "Lemon pie," she mumbled to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Before the Fat Lady would move aside, the portrait said, "I suppose with the correct password I have to let you in.  But with just the two of you in there, I trust you will be on your best behaviour."

Ginny had no idea what she was talking about, but she was too tired to ask questions.  It wasn't until she stepped into the common room that she understood what the Fat Lady was talking about.

He was sitting on the windowsill, eyes focused on what lay outside.  Harry turned to look at her before going back to staring out the window.

Without saying a word, she joined him on the windowsill.  The search teams were presumably on a break for the moment, for she could only see the additional torches that had brought in illuminating the grounds but no movement beneath them.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see his shoulders slump.  Acting on instinct, she moved closer to him until her back was resting against his chest.  She felt him stiffen briefly at her touch, but then he relaxed.

"Mum was looking for you.  She was worried when you left without saying anything," she said to him.

He gave no response that he had heard her, but she continued regardless.  "McGonagall's keeping all the reporters off the grounds.  She got an order from the Ministry declaring they can't come within a mile of the castle.  So, naturally they're all camping out hoping to catch a glimpse of you."

Again, she received nothing but silence.  She began to wonder if she was intruding on his space.  After everything that had happened he deserved some peace.  "If you want me to go, I will."

She felt his arms wrap themselves tightly around her waist in response.  "Stay, please."

He was silent for a time, but that was fine with Ginny.  Just knowing that he wanted her there was good enough for her.

"How do you feel?"  He asked suddenly.

She wasn't sure that she understood what he meant.  "What do you mean, Harry?"

"After the things you've seen today," he began slowly, "does it make you angry or upset?  What do you feel?"

She considered his question carefully before answering.  "I know that I hate Voldemort and his followers for wanting to destroy Hogwarts and everything I love about the wizarding world," she told him.  "And I wish that for every person I saw die today I could have done something more to save them," she said, choking out that last part and feeling Harry pull her closer to him.

"I don't feel anything," he confessed to her.  "After everything I've seen I still feel nothing.  It's like I'm emotionally numb inside."

She turned her head so she could look up at him.  "Everything you've spent the last seven years fighting for is finally over.   It's natural that you need some time to process it all." As she said those words she started to wonder then if it was better to feel nothing then to feel anything.  But to feel nothing would leave you empty and hollow.  She had seen Harry too many times like that.  She would gladly take the hurt and anguish over that any day.

They didn't speak another word after that.  They just stayed close like that, with Harry's arms protectively around her, watching the darkness of night together.

Ginny awoke feeling like she had not slept at all, her body aching in every imaginable area.  She didn't remember falling asleep on the couch or covering herself with a blanket.  Of course, it must have been Harry.  She rolled over and there he was sitting in an armchair, watching her.

"Did you sleep at all?" She asked him, bringing herself to a sitting position.

"I dozed on and off."

She should not have expected him to sleep through the night.  There was likely too much going on in his head for him to clear it long enough for sleep.

She sat there trying to rub out the kink in her neck from sleeping in an awkward position.

"You tossed and turned a lot," he said.

She wasn't sure how she felt about having him watch her sleep, but it was a nice change to hear concern in his voice.

"Do you want to grab some breakfast before going to the hospital wing?"

"I'm not really hungry."

She caught herself before pressing the matter further.  He didn't need her mothering him.  

She excused herself to change out of her clothes that had patches of dry blood on them, and hoped to do something with her hair to make herself look half decent.  Harry was still clothed in what he had been wearing yesterday when she came back down.  He looked terrible to say the least.  There were dark bags under his eyes and the bloodstains on his shirt showed her how close to death he had really come.

The walk to the hospital wing was accompanied by the same silence that had stuck with them for the majority of last night.  This time it was because Ginny didn't know what to say to him.  She wanted to ask about Voldemort, but had stopped herself just short of doing so every time.  If Harry wanted to talk about it he would have mentioned it by now.  If she weren't witnessing it with her own eyes, she would not think it possible for someone who had just saved the world to look so gloomy.  But she still believed what she had said to him last night.  So much had happened at once and he was just muddling through it all, but hadn't really processed any of it yet.  If it were anyone other then Harry she would be worried, but he would deal when he was ready, and not a moment before that.

However, most of Harry's somber mood disappeared when they saw Ron sitting up in bed, awake, and talking to Hermione.  Ginny reached his side first and hugged him tightly.

"How do you feel?"  Harry asked him.

"Better then you look, mate," said Ron with a grin.  "You look like shit."

Harry's own face lit up in a grin.  "You don't look so great yourself."

"Hermione said I look dashingly handsome, so you won't mind if I go by her assessment?"

"Does mum know?"  Ginny asked.

"Yeah, she, Charlie and the twins left just before you got here.  They're getting something to eat and then they'll be back."

"I'm going to find Madame Pomfrey and see if she needs a hand," said Ginny.  "But I'll come visit you later."  She gave her brother another hug before leaving.

"McGonagall came around too with some news for Hermione," said Ron, grinning again.

Harry glanced at Hermione but her features revealed nothing.  "What news?"

"She's been named class valedictorian," Ron said, proudly.  "As if there was ever any doubt."

"Congratulations," Harry said to her.  "Do you have to make a speech?"

"Yes," she started worriedly.  "But I have no idea what I'm supposed to say."

Ron snorted.  "Yeah, right.  You've probably had one ready since first year."

        Harry snickered too.

        The conversation was kept light for the reminder of their visit with Ron, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion his friends were doing it on purpose.  But he didn't mind.  After all the drama they had been put through, he was forever grateful to have something else to talk about – and for once, no life-threatening worries to occupy his thoughts.

        Harry was staring uninterestingly at the food on his plate, occasionally stabbing at it with his fork, and even less often actually putting some of it in his mouth.  Sirius had cornered him into a meal in the main hallway, where a section of it had become a temporary dining location until the wounded from the Great Hall were to be moved over the course of the next few days.

        His godfather had been called away shortly afterwards with reports that Death Eaters had been spotted lurking around Hogsmeade.  Though Harry prayed it was a false alarm, at least now he didn't have to pretend to have an appetite or worry about Sirius watching him like a hawk.

        "I think it's cold now," said a voice.

        "Sorry?"  Harry said distractedly, looking up.

        "The food," said Ginny, watching him push it around his plate.

        Harry shrugged and pushed the plate away from himself.

        "Do you want to go for a walk?"  She asked him.

        A walk would mean he would have to go outside and see first hand the destruction that had been caused.  So far, he had managed to avoid it, but he knew he could not hide inside forever.  Besides, there might be devastation outside, but it could all be repaired – maybe even in time for a September opening.  With a nod of his head, he stood up and walked with Ginny towards the main doorway.

        For a moment he feared that she had noticed his barest fraction of a second hesitation when he had gone to open the newly constructed main door, but then it struck him that he didn't care if she had.  He wasn't going to hide from her how badly this was affecting him.

At first, he could see nothing different, the area they were walking through looked seemingly untouched, with the exception of the occasional scorch marks lining the walls.  The further he and Ginny walked the greater the destruction was.  Entire sections of the castle had collapsed or caved in.  Debris littered the ground, and there parts of the rubble was still smoking in spots.  Hogwarts was unrecognizable from where he stood.  Even if the reconstruction teams managed to put Hogwarts back to the way it was, it would be forever etched in his brain the way it looked now.  A broken, scarred mess.  Merlin knows how many bodies were still under that wreckage…

        He wasn't aware that his knees had collapsed beneath him until he was leaning forward, hands on his knees, and threw up.  The sight before him was too much.  He sank back to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and felt Ginny come to his side, demanding to know what was wrong.  He couldn't tell her because he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering.

        All of this destruction – _this_ death – he was responsible for.  Voldemort came here for him.  Voldemort attacked his friends and their families because of their connection to him.  It was just one, giant never-ending circle.  He should have been stronger and cut off his ties with everyone.  Then maybe at least some of those bodies draped in a white sheet that he had seen the wreckage team bring in wouldn't have happened.

        "Harry, I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey," Ginny said, her voice taking on a high-pitched tone.

        "No," he protested through gritted teeth.  "I just need to get back to the common room."

        "Harry, don't be an idiot – "

        Her protests were lost on him.  He was already struggling to his feet and leaning on her for support.  She had never realized how heavy he was, and it was a wonder she was able to half-carry, half-drag him to the common room on her own.  Once there he collapsed on the nearest couch, shaking worse then before.  She grabbed a blanket to cover him up and that was when she noticed the fresh crimson colour seeping through his shirt.  She ran upstairs to her room, coming back down a moment later with her hands full of the supplies the Hogwarts matron had allowed her to keep as part of her training.

        "Hold still," she commanded, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to try and seal the wound.

        "Don't," he protested, and tried moving away.

        "Harry, either you let me help you or I'm leaving right now and getting Madame Pomfrey," she said in an authoritative tone.

        Harry desisted and she was able to redress the wound.  "Here, drink this.  It will help with the pain."

        He looked ready to argue but because of her earlier threat he drank the pink liquid without complaint, though it was with some difficulty because his hands were shaking so badly.

        "You need to rest.  You're suffering from post-traumatic stress."

        "It's my fault," he said through chattering teeth.  "I caused all of this."

        "Harry, you didn't," she said, her voice taking on a much more soothing tone now.  "You're only thinking that because you're exhausted.  You've pushed your body well beyond its limits."

         "No, that's not it.  I cause death. I – " He found his tongue catch in his throat, and the words he wanted to say seemed to elude him as he was overcome with an intense wave of drowsiness he hadn't been feeling moments before.  He looked accusingly at Ginny.  "What did you give me?"

        She looked extremely apologetic.  "I'm sorry, Harry, but it's for your own good."

        She had slipped him a sleeping draught!  He tried to stand up but his legs felt like jelly and refused to follow his command.  The only order his mind seemed capable of following was the overwhelming desire to sleep…


	35. One Night Of Well Deserved Fun

A/N:  Once again a HUGE thank you to all my reviewers!  I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as the last one.  Just remember, that after this one there's only one more left…

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: One Night of Well Deserved Fun

        One week later the initial phase of re-construction to the Hogwarts castle and grounds had begun.  The real work would start the day after tomorrow when the remaining students left for the summer holidays.  Professor McGonagall had promised the seventh years a graduation ceremony even if she had to do every bit of work herself.  With the commencement a little more than sixteen hours away, Hermione continued to scribble down lines for her speech at a more furious pace than ever before.

        "Your speech is going to be fine.  I don't know why you're worrying so much," said Ron, rubbing her shoulders affectionately.  "Even if it's lousy, they can't take the valedictorian title away, right?"

        He was teasing, but Hermione swatted his hands away nevertheless.  She had to finish a decent copy by first thing tomorrow morning because Professor McGonagall would be making a copy for every graduating student.

        "Maybe if you left it alone for a bit – "  Harry ended his suggestion right there seeing the look of aggravation forming on Hermione's face.

        "I appreciate you two trying to make me feel better, but I'm never going to finish this if you keep interrupting me."

        Any further words of encouragement Harry and Ron were going to give her were silenced.  The last thing they wanted was to make her any more anxious then she already was.  

        "I reckon that if Lucius Malfoy has half a brain he's out of the country by now," said Ron, changing the subject.

        "Draco's probably with him," Harry added.

        No one had seen Draco Malfoy since the day the school was attacked.  It was presumed he had run off like his father to avoid a lengthy prison sentence in Azkaban.  If they were able to link his father to playing a crucial part in the invasion of the school, chances were that Draco had at least been a party to it.

        "Do we have to talk about the Malfoy's?"  Hermione said to them.

        Both boys shrugged in response, but let the matter drop.

        "Seamus said there's a party in Hogsmeade tonight, do you want to check it out?"  Ron asked Harry.

        "I suppose we could go," Harry replied.  He hoped Ron didn't want to leave right away.  He didn't want to make it obvious that he was waiting for Ginny to get back.  

        "Thanks for asking if I'd like to go," said Hermione, looking up from her pages of writing.  "You just assumed I would say no without even bothering to ask."

        Ron's mouth fell open in astonishment and although Harry was shocked he wasn't quite so much as Ron.  

        "I think writing all those NEWTS made you blow a few brain cells," said Ron, stunned, "because I think you just said you wanted to go to a party full of immature teenagers doing things you normally wouldn't approve of."

        "I am entitled to one night of fun, aren't I?"

        Ron turned to Harry and said, "I think I've fallen into an alternate reality where this Hermione Granger is the exact opposite of the person we know."

        While they both laughed, Hermione turned away looked rather insulted.  "If you two are going to keep laughing at me, then we'll all stay here.  How does that sound?"

        Their laughter died immediately, and deciding to take advantage of the situation, Hermione piled up her parchments in her hands and rose to her feet.  "If you two don't mind, I have to finish this before the party starts."

        Even after she was gone they thought it best not to make fun of her in case she was listening in.  But after everything they had been through, everyone – especially Hermione – needed one, worry-free and fun-filled night.

        It was Ginny's responsibility to clean up the spell books and potion ingredients lying around the hospital wing at the end of the night.  Normally, she wouldn't mind the task but on that particular evening she couldn't be bothered to do it, so she was rushing through the job.  Hopefully, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't notice.  She supposed she might go into Hogsmeade for the graduation/victory party that was being held in the newly reconstructed Three Broomsticks.  She wondered if Harry would be going.  His mood had greatly improved since Ron's release from the hospital wing, so there was a chance he might be up to socializing in a large group.   

        She heard someone coming up behind her, and thought it was Madame Pomfrey coming to check on her progess.  She was bound to notice the slight disarray she was leaving the hospital wing in, but when the voice spoke it definitely did not belong to the Hogwarts Matron.

        "I guess you've had your hands full around here this last little while," said Sirius, glancing around at the few remaining patients still waiting to be transferred to St. Mungo's.

        "I haven't done that much," she said modestly.  "Madame Pomfrey and the ministry doctors did the real work."

        "Not the way my godson talks.  He makes it sound like you've had a hand in saving mostly everyone that's come in here."

        She blushed at the praise Harry had given her.  At first she had thought he would be angry because of the sleeping drought she had given him, but surprisingly he had harboured no ill feelings towards her.   "That's nice of him to say that, but it's not really true."

        "You know it's not easy for Harry to let people in to his life," Sirius began, "but he let you in, and you have no idea how sorry I am that I ruined that.  I thought I was looking out for him, but all I did was add to the personal hell he'd built for himself."

        "It wasn't entirely your fault, Sirius.  Harry and I had other problems."

        "Even so, I should have let him make his own choices."

        She finished putting away the pain killer sedatives, and turned to Sirius.  "It was never meant to work out with us.  I know that now."

        "Don't give up on him, Ginny.  He may yet surprise you."

        With those words said, Sirius departed, leaving Ginny with her mind on tidying up the hospital wing even less than before.  Though things had changed between her and Harry – for the better – since the final battle, she had not wanted to put any additional pressure on him.  He had already seemed so – she didn't want to say fragile, but that was the only word she could think of to describe him since the end of the war.  The last thing he needed right now was a relationship, or so that's what she kept telling herself because she was probably just as scared as him at the idea of starting things up again.  When she really thought about it she wondered how things could be any different this time around.  Harry may not have the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders anymore, but he still had a lot of emotional baggage.  Though it was partially her fault the way their relationship had ended up, she wasn't sure if she could handle it all again.

        After she was satisfied that Madame Pomfrey would not behead her in the morning for the state she had left her hospital wing in, Ginny made her way back to Gryffindor Tower.  When she got there, she found her brother and Harry locked in a game of chess.  Almost from the moment she walked in Harry's eyes locked with hers, and she got the distinct feeling he had been waiting for her.  

        Ron kicked him under the table.  "It's your move, mate."

        Harry immediately glued his eyes to the chessboard, muttering, "right, sorry."

        "Are you coming tonight, Gin?"  Ron asked her, while he awaited Harry's next move.

        Ginny watched Ron's knight decapitate Harry's pawn.  She had seen that was the wrong move to make just by glancing at the chessboard once.  He was obviously distracted.  "Sure, why not?  When are we going?"  She decided that a night of no responsibility was definitely in order.

        Ron jerked a thumb towards the stairs leading to the girl's dorm.  "When her Royal Highness finishes changing – or at least that's what she said she was going to do.  She's been up there for twenty minutes.  I don't know how it can take you girls so long to pick out clothes."

         "I'll have you know I was _not_ spending all that time deciding what to wear," said Hermione from at the top of the landing.  She began walking down, saying, "I had some new lines come to me that I had to add in to my speech."

        "Starting right now and for the rest of the night you are not allowed any more inspirational thoughts," Ron said to her, in a mock serious tone.

        Hermione took the bait.  "And if I do?" 

        "Then I get to rip up your speech and write you a brand new one – complete with grammar and spelling mistakes."

        Ginny caught Harry's eye and they both started laughing.  While Ron and Hermione took a few more friendly jabs at each other during the most docile row Ginny had ever seen them have, she looked at Harry and after they had both stopped laughing, asked as casually as she could, "are you coming with us?"  It was his prerogative if he wanted to stay behind, but she really wished he would come out and enjoy himself.

        "It's not as if I have anything more pressing than a party at the moment."  He was actually smiling as he said it.

        Shortly after, Ron and Harry were packing up their game of chess and together the four of them made for the portrait hole, destined for Hogsmeade.

        It was a surprisingly humid June night, and Harry was glad they had decided to forgo any cloaks.  Even stranger then the humidity was the calmness he felt as they crossed the Hogwarts grounds and took the path that lead into Hogsmeade.  He wasn't tensing for an attack or holding his wand out for protection.  It had been quite a long time since they had been able to walk at night in the open, without having to fear for their lives.  Harry had almost forgotten what this freedom felt like.  

        "What do you reckon is going on with them?"  Ginny asked from beside him.  She indicated towards Ron and Hermione who were walking several feet in front of them.

        Harry shrugged in response.  "They seem to be more comfortable around each other now."  He wasn't sure what to make of Ron and Hermione's relationship these days.  They seemed to be on the verge of trying to work things out, but neither Ron nor Hermione had said anything about it, and he hadn't felt right asking.  He had faith though, that everything would work out between them.  

        "If they were both smart, they would hurry up and fix things already."

        "We're not deaf," Ron growled without turning around.  "We can hear everything you're saying."

        Ginny muttered the word 'good' only loud enough so Harry would hear and then let the matter drop.  They were at the Three Broomsticks now anyways.  Ron pulled open the heavy wooded door and music, laughing, and shouting filled their ears.  He and Hermione walked in, and Ginny held the door open as if to go in, but stopped when she saw Harry hanging back.

        "Aren't you coming in?"  She asked him. He looked like a man with a million thoughts going around in his head, but unable to put any of it in to words.  He was staring at her so intently it was starting to frighten her.  She let the door to the Three Broomsticks shut.  "Harry, what is it?"

        The silence seemed to stretch forever before he finally spoke.  "You were right."

        She had no idea what he was talking about.  "What was I right about?"

        "An argument we had before we broke up," he started, "you accused me of being emotionless with you, and you were right.  I was too afraid of what you made me feel, so I took the coward's way out and let you go.  Sirius may have had a hand in the way things turned out, but I'm the reason we're not together.  I couldn't understand how someone could be so love in love with just me and not 'Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.'  I've hated myself for not being the person you deserve to be with, and for not being able to tell you how I felt when you needed to hear it most."

        "Harry, I – I don't know what to say," she said, fumbling for words.

        "You don't have to say anything.  You've already said more than you should have to," he said to her.  "I've never told anyone I loved them before – not Ron or Hermione, or even Sirius.  But it's different with them," he tried telling her.  "It's always there, it just never gets said.  I think the problem is me. I didn't know what real love was while I was growing up, so I don't know how to express it.  I would have given anything to grow up in a house like yours and Ron's, where everyone's so open and says what they're feeling, regardless of whether it's appropriate or not.  Maybe if I had been encouraged to talk about what I was feeling as I was growing up, I wouldn't have such a hard time dealing with my feelings now.  I know there's nothing I can say or do to make up for the last seven months, but I want to try, if you'll let me."  He paused briefly, his gaze unwavering, and said, "I love you, Ginny Weasley."

        It was funny how three words could change your life.  Three words she never thought would come out of Harry Potter's mouth had been said - and meant for her alone.  She couldn't describe the joy she was feeling, just that the tears rolling down her cheeks were far from sad ones.

        Harry closed the gap between them and gently thumbed away the tears that had fallen.  Looking at him then, he seemed a completely different person to her, almost as if he were a stranger – but in a good way.  Instead of being closed off and guarded, he was more open and vulnerable then he had ever allowed himself to be with her before.  He tilted her face up to meet his, and before she was even aware of what was happening, Harry was guiding her mouth up to meet his.  Kissing Harry was everything she remembered it to be and more.  Any of the barriers that had been between them before were gone now.  He was passionate and gentle, and acting like the person she had fallen in love with so long ago.  He let his hands travel down her back until they were resting on her waist, a spot she never thought she would feel his hands on again. 

        When they parted, it still felt too soon, even though they were both out of breath.  Letting her face rest against his shoulder, with both of Harry's arms still around her, she whispered, "I love you too."

        It felt like they stayed that way, so close to each other, for an eternity.  When they finally pulled away from each other completely, Harry's hand found hers and squeezed it tightly.  Not letting it go, he held open the door to the Three Broomsticks for her, and they walked in with their fingers intertwined together.


	36. Not The End

A/N:  I know it took forever but the end is finally here…

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:  Not The End

It seemed a much different Hogwarts then Remus Lupin was accustomed to seeing when he ventured out onto the grounds.  It was not the first time he had been outside since the enormous amounts of devastation had occurred, but no matter how many times he looked around, it did not make it any easier to see the place that always been a sanctuary to him – the one place where he had ever truly felt accepted – looking so badly ruined.  It was even harder to believe that once the new school year started in September, the majority of the damage would be fixed, as if the near destruction of Hogwarts had never occurred.  Next semester's first year students and many of the younger ones would probably never know how close they had come to losing this place.  He wondered if Harry's thoughts were following the same path.

He had looked out his office window and seen the young man enter the small, secluded cemetery reserved for the Headmaster's that had passed on throughout Hogwarts history.  Out of respect for Harry's privacy, Remus had not gone down there right away.  But when minutes turned into a full hour, he decided to check on Harry.  He found him standing in front of one of the graves, shoulders slumped and hands in his pockets.

Remus made his presence immediately known.  "Wherever Albus is now, he's proud of you, Harry."

"I let him down so many times," said Harry in a constricted voice.  He did not turn around.

"He expected you to make mistakes.  You were growing up with the responsibilities of ten adults.  And believe me, adults make more than their share of mistakes."

When Lupin reached his side he said, "they're proud of you too."

"Who?"

"Your parents.  You've grown up to be the kind of man they always knew you would be."

"I miss them," Harry said after awhile, "so much.  Every time I faced Voldemort all I could ever think of was the life he had stolen from me.  I hated him for that more than any other atrocities he had committed.  He wanted to make my death painful, but I wanted to make his suffering so unbearable he would beg me for death.  I wanted him to feel a fraction of what my life had been like.  I tried so hard, but somehow deep down I knew I could never beat him like that.  He would match his hatred with my own, until he finally killed me.  The only way to defeat him was to become everything Voldemort wasn't."

"The spell," Lupin said, though he did not sound surprised.

Harry finally turned around.  "For the protection spell to work on a living person it would require some sort of sacrifice or leap of faith."

 "You were willing to sacrifice your life to save millions.  An act so completely pure and selfless that it triggered the spell.  Harry, things like love, friendship and selflessness are all elements that Vodemort has never had, and could never understand.  Therefore, he had no way to defend himself against things he had never known.  Cutting himself off from his human side was his undoing."

Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling at that moment, but what he did feel was relief.  It was all over now.  There would be no more fighting or lives lost.  He could focus on the things that mattered to him.  His friends, figuring out what he was going to do with the rest of his life, and Ginny.  He wasn't going to make a mess of things with her like he did before.  He was going to make sure she knew he never wanted to live without her.

"The ceremony's going to be starting soon," Lupin said to him.  "And after all the effort Minerva has put in to this graduation, I don't think she's going to tolerate tardiness."

Harry didn't argue.  He knew it was time to go.  He couldn't stop the future from happening.  He was suddenly a lot more scared of graduating then he had been only a few hours before.  Hogwarts was his safety net, and in a little while it would be gone forever.  Lupin seemed to understand what was going through his mind because he didn't try and force any conversation out of him on their walk back to the school.

For days, Hogwarts had been almost completely empty, but not on that particular morning.  The outside grounds were buzzing with activity, as last minute relatives shuffled in to find seats and mother's fussed over their son's and daughter's appearances one final time.  Each student's attire consisted of a black pointed wizard's hat and silky black dress robes, with the Hogwart's school crest on the upper left side.

Hundreds of chairs were set up facing a large-sized stage, which held an empty chair for each Hogwarts teacher.  The ceremony had been set up far away from the devastation caused during the Death Eater's attacks.  They were on the side of the castle that had remained relatively untouched during the attacks.

Due to alphabetical seating arrangements, Harry was nowhere near Ron or Hermione.  He had just enough time to wish her good luck before McGonagall came around shooing students to their correct seats.  Sirius along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come over briefly before taking their own seats with the rest of the Weasley clan.  When everyone was seated and silent, Professor McGonagall stood in front of the small podium on stage to address the gathered crowd.

"I have had the pleasure of watching many graduating classes over the years," she began, "but never before have I been so moved or proud at the choices each one of you made to get here today.  I know it is usually the Headmaster that begins the commencement, but I know how much Albus enjoyed breaking the old traditions and starting his own.  I also know that this war has taken many loved ones from us.  Many of whom fought right until the very end.  But as long as you remember everything they were when they were alive, they will never be forgotten."

McGonagall paused briefly out of respect for those who had fallen before continuing.  "I've known all of you since you arrived that first night here, seven years ago.  For almost as long, I've had to press upon many of you the seriousness of your studies.  Certain students did not need such prodding only encouragement to succeed.  One student in particular rose above all of her professor's highest expectations, achieving record breaking marks in each of her year's here at Hogwarts.  Her dedication to her studies, and going above and beyond what was asked of her in the classroom, makes me sure she will continue to make us all proud no matter what she decides to do with her life.  It is with great pride and honour I announce Hermione Granger as the Hogwarts graduating class valedictorian."

Applause roared up from the students and parents gathered, while Hermione made her way to where Professor McGonagall was standing on stage.  McGonagall shook her hand in a heartened way before going back to her own seat.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."  She placed her speech on the podium and looked out at the gathered crowd before speaking.  She searched out one individual in particular – Ron.  He looked like he had never been more proud of her and it made her heart swell.  They had stayed up until dawn, talking about everything.  They hadn't had one of those long, all night talks in ages.  But after everything that had happened; the final battle, innocent people dying, now more than ever they felt the need to work things out between them.  If they could survive a seven-year long war with the most feared dark wizard in history, then they could survive a little distance separating them.  She loved Ron, more than she did any other person in her life, and she wasn't going to lose him, not now – not after everything they had been through together.  If she had been able to read minds then, she knew Ron's thoughts would have mirrored her own.

The time for reflection was over.  She was sure everyone was expecting her to deliver some long-winded, over-practiced speech, but that would not be the case.  Originally, that had been true, but she had eventually realized that length did not matter, it was the words that did.  She let her gaze survey the graduating class one more time before speaking.  "The moment I got my letter saying I was accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I made the decision that I wanted to become the top witch in all of my classes.  Nothing else seemed to matter, as long as my hard work paid off in the end.  Well, I was wrong.  I learned a long time ago that there were more important things besides completing an extra credit assignment.  Friends, for starters, fitting in, love, and yes, fun.  I came to Hogwarts expecting only academic achievement, but I received something far greater in return – a family.

"As with any family, there were good times and the bad, accomplishments and losses, victories and times of sorrow.  Sometimes it would threaten to tear us apart, but when it mattered most was when we pulled together.  That's why each of us are here today, and those that aren't, bravely gave their lives so that we could be.  When we leave here today to start the next chapter of our lives, though most of you will each go your own separate ways, our seven years here at Hogwarts is what will always keep us together."

With the conclusion of Hermione's speech, the resounding applause was deafening.  Harry, Ron, and every other Gryffindor were on their feet cheering and applauding with the rest.  Within moments, the entire graduating class was standing.

It was some time before the noise died down enough for Professor McGonagall to address them.  She began calling the students names out in alphabetical order to receive certificate that would represent the last seven years of their lives.  Professor Lupin was given the honour of handing out each diploma.  After the Patil twins, McGonagall all but shouted out, "Harry Potter!"

The cheering that followed was the loudest it had been during the ceremony.  Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes as she congratulated him.  Lupin look equally teary-eyed when he shook Harry's hand firmly and handed him the certificate.

When every parchment had been handed out and every student was seated again, Professor McGonagall spoke loudly, "I present to you all the Hogwarts graduating class!" 

One by one, the graduates stood up and threw their pointed hats up into the air.  It was only a matter of time, before everyone was breaking alphabetical order to congratulate and thump their friends on the back.  Harry whole-heartedly joined in.  For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had the feeling that everything was going to be all right.

Their bags were packed and waiting for them on the carriages that would take the students to the train station.  Some were already sitting in the horseless drawn carriages, while the majority were taking the time to make sure they had not forgot anything, others still were using the opportunity to walk along Hogwarts grounds one final time.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were alone in the courtyard, standing around, not sure whether to grab a carriage or stay behind a little longer.

"It seems a lot smaller now," Ron commented.

"That's because we've seen nearly ever square inch of it," Hermione said from beside him, where she stood holding his hand.

"Even the ones we weren't supposed to," Harry added in.

"Do you think the repairs will be complete by September?"  Hermione asked him.

"Lupin seems to think so," Harry told her.  Then, watching the two of them closely, he cleared his throat and said, "there's something I have to say to you both before we leave."

Hermione was shaking her head before he even had all the words spoken.  "No, you don't, Harry.  We had a pact.  No good-bye's, remember?"

"I wasn't going to say good-bye.  What I wanted to say was I wouldn't have made it through these last seven years without either one of you.  I know I've done and said a lot of rotten things to both of you, and sometimes I wonder what I've done to deserve your friendship, because the fact of the matter is I don't.  But that hasn't stopped you from caring or trying to help.  All this time I've been telling myself I don't have a family I was wrong.  Ron, Hermione, you are my family.  I just thought you should know that," he added as an afterthought, feeling a little awkward at being so open.

Hermione's response was immediate.  She threw her arms around him, wetting his shoulder with her tears.  "It took you long enough," she sniffed.

He looked over at Ron, who's own eyes were shimmering as well.  For all they had been through together, a little emotional moment still seemed to embarrass them.

Hermione shoved the two of them together saying, "oh, go on you two!"

They hugged as quickly as was humanly possible but the sentiment was still there.

"I promised myself I wasn't going to cry," said Hermione, wiping at her tears.

"I could have told you that wouldn't happen," teased Ron, moving out of harm's way at the quick elbow aimed at his ribs.  A moment later, when the friendly jostling was over, Ron grabbed her hand and held it in his own.  

They made a silent decision to head for the carriages at that point, Hermione walking in the middle of the two young men.  They were quiet because nothing more was needed to be said.  They had survived everything and were on the brink of starting new lives.  As scary as it sounded, they knew they would be all right because they had each other. 

A gigantic thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story!!!  Your comments and points of encouragement are what helped me keep writing.  It almost feels strange to have Weight of the World finished because it's been such a big part of my life for so long.  I know a lot of you were probably expecting a big sappy reunion between Ron and Hermione, but I just didn't feel like it was necessary.  I think things turned out well enough on their own.  Besides, Ron and Hermione are not big on apologies anyways…

This is not the last you'll be seeing of me.  I'm currently working on another Harry Potter fic and hope to start posting chapters soon.


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